How Long Does Forever Last
by HalfiesRule
Summary: He ran out of my life and I let him go. I once said if you love something let it go, if it's truly yours it will come back. Well Zachary Goode came back, but he definitely wasn't mine. Now we've been sucked into a world of espionage and secrets. My life was taking a turn for the worst, but will Zach and I pre vale, or will we impoled worse than ever? Sequel to BFTF other story
1. Starting Up Again

**Hey Guys, so this is the long awaited sequel to Best Friends Together Forever, my first Gallagher Girls story. For those of you who are reading Not Who You Think I Am, I think I'm going to postpone that story until Summer because I don't' have a whole lot of time to write that story and I'm having massive writer's block for it. I'm sorry to all those readers, but it will be finished later. So anyways, I know that I said I don't have a lot of time to write, but this story comes super easily to me, so I'll try to update as much as I can, but for me third trimester in school is really important so I have to keep my grade up if I want to take the four honors classes I want to next year. I've already written some chapters though so hopefully I'll be okay with updating. Anyways, the long awaited sequel! PS guys I hate happy endings... most of the time ;). **

**How Long Does Forever Last? **

Starting Up Again

As much as I would love to admit that the years without him have been amazing, that I don't regret telling him not to go, I can't. I would, but then I'd be lying. I can't really say that I wish he were still here. I know for sure that I'd never be able to look him in the eyes the same way again. His bipolar attitude, his annoying smirk, his deep eyes that made anyone weak in the knees. At the times when I need him, depended on him, he took off, left, abandoned me. But, I guess, it was partially my fault; I left too, didn't I? I bet he wouldn't want an amnesiac either, but in this case though, being an amnesiac didn't matter, I remembered _him_, and he left, without a trace, gone with the wind. Zachary Goode left me. Alone.

Bex and I left on that fatal day, condemning me to a life I wish I didn't want. I wish I didn't want to be away from everyone I love, to be alone, to suffer the solitude he inflicted upon me. I know it wasn't his choice to leave, had it been me in his shoes, I would have jumped at the chance, but it seemed as if he gave up on us so easily. There were so many things I wish didn't happen. I wish I didn't get a brain tumor. I wish he didn't cheat on me. I wish I didn't catch him. Most of all, I wish he didn't _leave._

Stability is a fragile part of the human mind. It can break with the touch of a memory, or the wisp of a dream, the influence of an idol, or the passion of a love. Stability keeps a person in check, demanding that its actions be defined by the emotions of a person's character. My stability broke the day that I came back from my trip to realize that he was truly gone. On the outside I kept the dazed, oblivious persona I had adopted during my travels, yet I knew that inside of me, a part longed for him to be waiting for me, a smirk on his face, and his arms wide open. To just look me in the eye and whisper into my hair, "Just kidding, I would never leave you." I longed for his hot breath to wisp past my ears, sending shivers down my spine. For his strong arms to wrap around my waist and dip me, much like the night I agreed to be his. But as the days numbered down, and the time to return grew closer, the scene replayed in my head, remaining there, and no where else.

Now, I lay in my bed, hair spread around, clothes disheveled, scattered around the floor, while discarded midnight meals lay strewn across my studies desk. The seconds hand on the analog clock in the corner ticked, slowly causing a quiet chime, noting the hour had passed. It was another day in the dreadfully dreary life of Cameron Morgan. Most of my friends, including Macey, are attending Super Bowl parties at the moment. Football had once appealed to me, but do to unfortunate _events_, the sport had lost its allure. Who was I to complain though; I had been invited; yet I wasn't ready. Some may say that five years is more than enough time to get over _one _boy, but they obviously didn't know him, not like I did, or, at least, I thought I did.

A rapping at my door stirred me from my thoughts. My legs slid slowly from the safety of my bed, as scattered shirts and displaced pants fell to the floor. Rubbing my eyes as I begrudgingly walked through Bex and my apartment, I opened the door. In the frame I saw two people I did not expect to see.

"Um," I stuttered for words as I stared to the two people in front of me, "Not to be rude, but mom, Abby, what are you doing here?" Abby cocked her head to the side and gave me a sly smirk, while my mother extended her arms and wrapped them round my slim frame.

"Heya Squirt," Abby replied cheekily, "No hugs for your favorite aunt?"

"Again," I groaned, both of them pushing their ways past me and into our apartment, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, it's Super Bowl Sunday, and you're not even watching T.V. There has _got_ to be something wrong there." My mom walked over to our living room, which consisted of a couch, a coffee table (which rarely ever actually had _coffee_ on it), and a television.

"I don't exactly _do_ football anymore," I reminded her. My mom moved some of our old Chinese take out boxes into the trash, while Abby just cleared everything onto the floor. I laughed as she swung her legs over the side of the couch and landed with her arms behind her head. My mom glared at her sister, as Abby shrugged.

"Honestly Cameron," My mother scolded as she picked up more discarded food take out boxes and various pieces of clothing that did _not_ belong in the living room, "You'd think that you and Rebecca would take better care of your living quarters."

"Bex prefers the 'lived in' look" I replied, putting air quotes around "lived in". Most of the stuff my mom was picking up was hers anyways. What really struck my mom was when she found a very questionable sock and a pair of underwear that _definitely_ did not belong to one of us. At this she raised her eyebrow at me and I just shrugged it off. Abstinence is a virtue my friends.

"Are you really going to force me to watch that?" I asked Abby.

"Bet your buttons we are Squirt, we did not just drive all the way from Virginia to New York _not_ to watch the Super Bowl, now pop a squat and let's get our game on." Abby then proceeded to flip through all twenty channels that we received on our television. Thank you cable television. When Abby finally found the channel, I tuned out the screech of the overly perky newscaster lady.

The game started in about fifteen minutes and we had been watching Ms. Perky-Pants for about ten. I don't think my mom understands why I didn't want to watch the Super Bowl, not only did I not do football anymore, but I especially did not do this particular team.

"-And congratulations to their new star wide receiver! Zachary Goode may be smaller than most players, but his speed definitely makes up for it." The announcer continued to drone on about what a "lucky break" it was that Zach was on that team. My mom turned to me with a concerned look; I shrugged it off, hoping that now she'd understand why I wasn't in the football mood. However, my mom made no motion to turn the television off.

"I think you need to watch this Cam," Abby consoled. She moved into a sitting position and patted the seat next to her.

"Why?" I sneered in returned, "I'm over him. He left me when I need him and he's nothing but heartless. I remembered most of my life without him. You, Bex, mom, Macey, Liz, Jonas, Grant, Graham, for Pete's sake even _Preston_ was there, and he barely even knows me. He left. He wasn't here, and I've moved on with my life." I turned away from Abby and reached for the remote, in a failed attempt to change the channel.

"Okay Squirt," Abby sighed defeated, "I believe you." No, you don't. I could see it in her eyes that she thought I was lying. "But we're still watching the game. I don't care how much you hate, despise, or resent this kid, but we're still watching the Super Bowl. We didn't drive all the way here to stare at a blank T.V. for a couple of hours. Now, at least get dressed. Your rinky-dink apartment isn't cutting my standards." I glared at Abby in return, knowing that when she tells you to do something, you better.

I walked back to my room and groaned at my reflection. My sloppy bun was on the side of my head and strands of hair were falling around my face. I had a crusty looking blob on my right cheek that could only be identified as dried drool, gross. I still didn't wear any makeup so I didn't have to worry about smudged mascara or blotched lip-gloss. I was in my usual sleepwear, a large shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Begrudgingly I slipped on a pair of jeans and an old football jersey my dad had gotten me for my birthday one year. Maybe not his smartest choice, but I'll give him points for trying.

Returning back into the living room, I found Abby and my mom already had their shoes and jackets back on and were twirling the car keys idly. We left my apartment and drove a local sports bar. I had been here before, during my sophomore year of college (yes, I have graduated already) I used to come here to study, well not study per say, more of procrastinate as much as possible. The bar was full of football fans swinging beers to and fro, clinking glasses as a pass was completed or a fumble was recovered. Abby and my mother found an available table and looked over the menu as I dazedly twirled a piece of hair around my finger. I heard an uproar of cheers screech behind me, and I could only conclude that there had been a touchdown.

"And another beautiful touchdown made by the brilliant Zachary Goode!" The announcer on the television cheered. The screen flashed to a close up of him on the field. He took of his helmet and shook out his hair. It did do much though because his it was sticky with sweat, attaching firmly to his forehead. He hadn't changed much since high school. He still had stunning emerald eyes and prominent dimples when he smiled. He hair was still the same wavy, shaggy brown it had been years ago when I first met him. As he jogged off the field, he held up one finger in a "number one" motion and gave the camera a smirk. Typical.

I returned my attention back to the menu and examined it intently, trying to avoid watching the screen as much as possible. The bar was a mix of hurrahs and boos. Unaffected by the loud atmosphere, my mother and Abby remained silent, their stares not on their menus anymore but on me, studying me as if I were an organism under a microscope.

"Cammie!" A voice yelled from beside me. "You made it!" I turned to see one of my many partners in crime with her large groups of friends.

"Hi Liz," I responded awkwardly, Liz, Macey, and Bex all knew that on football days I tended to stay locked up in my room and sleep all day. "Um, what are you doing here? I though you were going to Tina's for the game?"

"Ya, about that," Liz said rubbing the back of her neck, her other hand subconsciously stirring her drink with her straw.

"Oh gosh Liz, what'd you do this time?" I joked, laughing. I smiled and Liz began turning a dark crimson.

"Okay," she began, "It wasn't my fault for once, it's going to be kind of implied that if you leave a shrimp on the ground, someone is going to step on it. And then when you leave a tower of cups of water right next to the television, you're definitely asking for it." I replayed the scene in my head as Liz described it to me. Typical Liz. "And that's basically how we ended up here."

"Are Macey and Bex here too?" Looking behind her, I tried to locate my other two friends, but it was nearly impossible in this obnoxious crowd.

"Ya!" Liz exclaimed, "They're sitting over there with Grant, Graham, Jonas, Preston, and the rest of the gang. You should come sit with us. I know today's got to be kind of hard, but I think spending it with friends will make it a little easier." I heard her words, yet as I thought about it, I could feel my face freeze up: brow furrowing, lips turning into a distasteful frown. Did they really think I wasn't over him too?

"Cam, earth to Cam," Liz tapped my shoulder and yanked a little on my wrist.

"What? Ya. What were we talking about?" I laughed at my own confusion as Liz gave me a _tisk tisk_ look. I just chuckled and rolled my eyes.

"So are you going to come sit with us?" Liz repeated, pointing to a table on the opposite room. I saw Grant and Graham staring intently at the game, while Bex was chatting with Eva; it was almost like a mini high school reunion. Actually, that's exactly what it was.

"I'd love to, really I would Lizzie, but my mom and Abby are here, and I feel like I should spend some time with them, you know after they drove all the way out here." I looked for some excuse not to go and be near even more people. I didn't even want to be here in the first place.

"They can come too!" Liz encouraged. I was about to argue more about why I should be staying as far away from people as possible, maybe I had some sort of major migraine, just something to get away from being with even more people, when my mom interrupted us.

"Elizabeth!" She acknowledged giving here a large hug, "Good to see you, how are you?" My mom was being the stereotypical mom-meets-daughter's-old-friend kind of person. The overly enthusiastic lady who sounds too happy about everything, I swear right now she could say "I ran over your new puppy with my monster truck" and you could still be left in a good mood…. well… maybe not.

"I'm great Ms. Morgan," Liz replied, "I was just wondering if you, Cammie, and Abby would like to join the rest of the girls and me to watch the second half of the game."

"Oh Abby and I are much too old for that, why don't you go spend time with your friends Cammie, we can all meet up at your apartment later." My mom gave me a wink as I glared in return to her suggestion.

"Sure," I managed through gritted teeth. Liz then proceeded to pull on my hand, leading me over to the table where everyone else was situated. I was greeted with choruses of "hello" and "good to see you". They act like they haven't seen me in years, well some of them haven't, but there was no need for celebration.

"Cammie!" Grant yelled, coming and engulfing me in a hug.

"Hey big boy," I remarked poking his stomach.

"Big boy?" He inquired, "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm fat? Hmph, well then Cameron, I guess you'll just have to apologize." Grant turned away from me while crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry Grant you aren't fat." I giggled and looked over at Bex, she had a smirk on her face while she shook her head at her friend's stupidity.

"So," Grant continued while dragging out the 'o', "I hear that you could use a good time." He slung his arm around me as I sat down on one of the bar stools.

"Well, my mom and aunt are in town, so if you mean board games, then my mom beating up my aunt after accusing her of cheating, then sure, I could _definitely _use a good time."

"Well, after the game, the gang and I are heading over to a friend's house. I think you should come. It'd be fun. I mean seriously Cam, when was the last time you got out?" Grant raised an eyebrow skeptically at me. I placed my hand over my heart in fake shock.

"I get 'out' all the time, if you must know," I retorted, while putting air quotes around 'out.'

"Whatever, you in or not?" He asked quizzically. I looked over at my mom and aunt. They met my eyes and gave me a shrug. I'm almost positive this was their plan all along. Besides, even _I _don't want to get in between those two when they play board games.

"Fine," I relented, "but whose house is it at?" My question was ignored, however, due to Grant's eyes being intently glued onto the screen in front of him. The ball was played to the wide receiver, and run down the line. After avoiding almost five guys, the receiver dove into the end zone for a touch down. We were now up thirteen to zero, because we had missed the P.A.T.

By the end of the game, we had won, but only by a hair. The last play of the game was a close Hell-Mary, but luckily our defense was able to knock the ball down, running out the clock. Had the previous play been complete, we would have lost for sure. People began to file out of the bar, and only then did I notice my mom and aunt were gone. _Great, _I thought to myself, _they left me here, with no ride home. Thanks mom, thanks Abby, you two are just so freaking amazing. _

"Bex!" I hollered, "The fam left me without a ride home, and I told Grant I'd go to that party with you and the rest of the group, can I catch a ride with you two." I know that after previous experience that driving with Bex probably wasn't the best idea, seeing as she still thinks that we drive on the left side of the road, but Liz definitely was not in the mood to drive. I don't even think she's in the mood to stand. That food poisoning must have been horrible for her to blow chunks like that. Tina had already left with Eva, Kim, and Courtney so I was left with the terrible twosome. Aren't I lucky?

"Sure Cam, but did you really tell Grant you'd go with us?" Bex looked quizzical, her eyebrows were raised in surprise and her mouth was slightly agape.

"Ya, I did I guess, why? Do you not want me to come?" I'd totally understand it if she didn't, I'm not much of a partygoer.

"Um, you do know whose party we're going to right?" I had a thought.

"Please don't tell me we're really going _there_." I begged.

"I would, but then I'd be lying."

Well, I'm officially screwed. I guess, Zach, here I come.


	2. New Beginnings

Running Into An Ex?

"Grant!" I hissed, as he exited the bathroom. What a typical guy.

"Yep Camster?" He began walking back towards Bex, hands behind his head, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me we were going to _his_ house?" I gave him a slight punch to the side and he doubled over a bit. Okay, maybe it wasn't so _slight_.

"Because," he began, "I knew that if I told you, you wouldn't come." He shrugged his shoulders and I punched him again. So what if I'm a little violent right now, I'm kind of freaking pissed off.

"No duh I wouldn't come!" I threw my hands up while screaming at him. "I don't want to see him! Especially right now!"

"You _need _this Cam, you need closure, or whatever crap those stupid magazines say now a days. Whatever it is, you need to see him, talk to him, just get this over and move on with your life. I can see it, you're miserable right now, just talk to him. I've kept in contact with him, and I know he's no better off than you are. Just do this. For me. For _him_." Grant stopped and turned to face me. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he stared directly into my eyes. I could see the sincerity. He was just a guy, who was scared that his two friends are getting torn apart.

"Grant," I pleaded, I could feel the tears approaching. The dam I had kept shut for so many years was cracking, the water was seeping through the breaks in my built up walls. I felt one tear trickle down my cheek, as Grant's hand came up and wiped it away. "Grant, I-I- I can't even say his _name_. I can't say his name, Grant, and I'm scared. I don't know if I can do it, I was so hurt when I came back and he wasn't here, and I just don't think I can do it. I'm sorry." I turned away from Grant, when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"I know that it's hard for you Cam, but just know that Zach," I flinched at the use of his name. It's been years, actually beyond years, since anyone has actually said his name aloud in front of me. "He- he's broken. I can tell. Leaving you was by far one of the hardest things he has had to do, and I know that it's eating him up inside. Please, if you can't do it for yourself, or do it for me…please, just do it for him. Show me that you really are over him. Just tell him 'hi' and you can leave, but I just want you to see him, him to see you. Just something. I want this to be over. You've both been hurting for too long."

"I don't know if I can Grant." I was still facing away from him. I didn't want him to see the tears that were cascading down my cheeks now. I had hidden them for so long. Nights I've spent soaking my pillow, or days I've called in sick thinking about our past.

"Please," he begged, "just-just try. Please." I had never once in my life heard Grant beg. Feeling his grip on my shoulder loosen, I shucked his hand off and sprinted into the girl's bathroom. I ran into the stall and dry heaved. The tears were still falling from my eyes. I heard them splash into the water, as the door to the bathroom opened. I stood up from the ground while grabbing a few pieces of toilet paper. Dying my eyes, I unlocked the stall doors, to face Bex.

"I know what you're going to say," Patting my eyes; I lifted my head and saw my face. My eyes were puffy and red, my cheeks enflamed and irritated. My hair was almost completely out of its bun now, and my breathing was harsh and ragged.

"Tell me what I'm going to say then." Bex crossed her arms in a way that can only be described as _Bexish_. She cocked her hip and her lips closed into a firm, strait line.

"I need to go see him, that I this is going to be good for me, blah blah blah." I walked over to the sink and splashed some cool water on my face. The redness in my cheeks died down a bit, but my eyes were still puffy, showing that I had been crying recently, either that or I had some pepper blown into my eyes. That's not a fun experience, need you know.

"That's actually where you're wrong. I can see you still need time." I looked over at her, mouth agape. "I'm not going to force you into anything, but I just want you to listen to something before you decide to shut him out, and never see him ever again." Bex pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. The phone went on speakerphone and I nearly burst back into tears at the voice.

_Grant,_ the recording replayed, _you were right. I don't know what to do. All I know is that- that- I need to see her again. I need to talk to her. I know I've said things and done things that I didn't mean, but I can't get her out of my head. I-I just don't know how to find her. I need you, man, god- listen to me, I'm supposed to be some sort of football star and here I am blubbering to you over a cell phone message. Anyways, just-just try to get back to me when you can. I need help. _

The message ended with a beep and I couldn't believe my ears. It was Zach, there was no doubt about it. His voice was the same, maybe a bit deeper, but still his all the same.

"We'll be waiting for you outside, just let us know if you want to go or not. If you do we'll take you, if not, then we'll take you back to the apartment." Bex exited the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts yet again. I seriously don't think that I can face him again, but the pure desperation in his voice is making me think differently. _Stop it Cammie,_ I chastised myself, _you vowed that when he left that it would be you, and only you. You are independent and strong. Whether he needs you or not, you can get over this. _ I sighed. The moral portion of my brain was winning this battle, but as the saying goes "follow your heart."

I exited the bathroom, eyes slightly less puffy, cheeks returning to their usual tint. I saw Bex and Grant on the far side of the room, speaking in hushed voices. Their volumes may be low, but their actions spoke the entire conversation for them. Bex was slamming her fists on the table, as Grant tried to consol her by placing his hands on her shoulders. Shrugging his hands off, Bex rose from the table turned away from Grant and began to leave the bar. It was near empty now, seeing as the Super Bowl had ended, only a few stragglers remaining. Upon her exit, Bex turned back to Grant spoke once again, and then continued out of the bar.

I sauntered across the room, taking seat next to Grant, whose head was placed into his hands. His fingers covered his eyes, and his cheeks were flushed. I felt a pain in my heart knowing that one of my best friends since the seventh grade was going through this kind of pain. Worst yet, I was the root cause of it.

"Grant," I whispered. He lifted his head up and looked me in the eyes. The previous happiness that had been present had faded, replaced by a heartbreaking sadness. He gave me a slight smile, then replaced his head back into his hands. "I-I want to go." Grant's head snapped up and his fake smile turned back into a frown.

"No." I was stunned. Here was the man who wanted me to go see the exact person who broke my heart years ago, and now he was telling me no?

"Please, enlighten me why not." Demanding, I leaned in closer to him, generally interested in the reason I was not permitted to attend this oh-so-exciting event.

"Bex was right, you're not ready to see him yet. Suggesting you go was a stupid idea, so we're taking you home." Grant stood up from his chair, as if his explanation cleared up everything. If anything, it just made me more confused.

"Um, I'm pretty sure Bex wants me to go too." I informed him confused. "She came into the bathroom where I was having my mental breakdown, and she played me the message that, um, _he_ left on your phone. I realize now that this is something we both need, and I'm going to that 'party' whether you like it or not."

"You see," Grant chuckled, "this isn't your decision anymore. Cammie, do you realize how much we've given up for you? How many opportunities we've blown to make sure you don't do something stupid. You're still _unstable_. We're just looking out for you, and right now I realize that now is not the time for you to see him. You still need more time. You might not see it, but I do."

"Enlighten me Grant. Enlighten me on what opportunities that _I've_ caused you to miss out on because of my 'instability'" I frowned at Grant. So that's what I am now? Crazy?

"This isn't about us Cammie," Grant snapped at me in a harsh tone. "This is about you, and us not wanting you to get hurt. Now you're going home and Bex will make sure you stay there."

"You don't realize what you're doing do you?" I asked him. I could feel the tears welling again, but this time I held them back, refusing to let them spill over. "You don't realize that I _know_ that you're in pain by seeing us hurt; that I don't _want_ to be the cause of your pain. I just want this all to be over, just like you do, and the only way I know that this can be over is by confrontation. Now you'll take me to him and you will like it!" I stood up from the table and exited the bar.

"There's the Cammie we all know and love." Grant chuckled and followed in tow behind me.

Grant and I found Bex in the car. Her arms were crossed sternly over her chest and her brow was furrowed in a very unattractive manor, but it was Bex, so it didn't really matter. I hopped in the back of the car and fastened my seatbelt. Grant easily slid into the driver's side, because absolutely _no_ sane person trusts Bex driving, unless they had no other choice

"So?" Bex questioned turning to Grant.

"Vamos a la casa de _Zachary_." Grant replied in Spanish. I rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit. Grant always thought he was so cool speaking in Spanish, even though he took French in high school.

"Well," Bex smirked, "_That_ means _you_ owe me five bucks." Grant let out a loud groan and started the car.

"Wait," I interjected, "you two _betted_ on me? I cannot believe you planned all of that!" I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. What kind of friends makes bets on you? "Seriously guys, you're the worst."

Both of them just laughed as Bex spoke, "Oh you know that's not true Cam, you love us, plus we were going to make you go anyways. We know that you need this, but it's easier when you agree to go rather than us take you by force. Remember that time at the gas station and you-"

"Okay!" I yelled interrupting her, let's just say that Zach and my break up was pretty messy, and the checkout guy was _really_ cute, and then there was this porcupine and it just goes downhill from there.

"How far is the drive Grant?" Bex inquired. Meanwhile, I slumped down into my seat, feeling my eyelids grow heavier and heavier, from my sleep depravation earlier this morning. I _had_ been planning on sleeping all today, but I guess Mom, Abby, Bex, Grant, and company had other plans for me. Soon, Bex's words muffled, as did Grant's replies. My head drooped to the side and I feel into a peaceful slumber.

The dream was horrid. I relieved the night I had my seizure, my operation, and my memory loss. I felt the fear seep into the deepest crevasses of my brain. The empty feeling that I had felt the day that I woke up tormented my mind. Soon, the dream shifted to the day in the park. I saw Zach beating this hands bloody, then his sickly face at school. I felt the pain rip through my heart as he told me he was leaving. The worst was yet to come however. The dream ended with the day I returned from my trip. The day that I realized that Zach was really gone, without a trace. I remember attempting to call him and operator telling me that the number was no longer in service. I felt the familiar pain thread through my chest. The summer of sixth grade was repeating again. Only this time, the feelings were real, and the situation was even worse. There was no chance that I'd see him again, only a disabled number and a box of shallow memories.

I remember waiting by the phone, hoping that it would ring, that he at least let me know he was _okay_. Just to hear the sound of his voice, to know that he was happy. The phone never rang, eventually, out of frustration, being thrown against the wall. The shallow days I spent in the dark corners, reliving the torment that was inflicted upon me during my time of despair. The dream ended soon after that.

"Cam, Cam," Bex chanted, shaking my leg. "We're here, are you ready? I know that these past few years have been hard on you, but I really think you're ready. Just-just pull through, if you really need to leave come and find me. I'll protect you. That's what I'm here for, that's what friends are for."

The house was average size, not mansion style, or underappreciated apartment style. The suability was quite, and no amounts of excessively baroque features were displayed. The house was…completely average. It was two stories, cream colored with windows above the garage on the second floor. The street was crowed with cars, but it seemed that were no more than fifty people, minus us, at the get-together.

I stepped out of the car taking a deep breath. _I can do this_, I reminded myself_, I've gone through the stages and I'm stable now. I'm ready to face him. Nothing can change my bravado. I. Am. Confident. _

If only I knew how wrong I was. 


	3. Well, This Sucks

**Hey everyone , sorry for the late update, but this one is the longest so far so I hope it makes up for it. Anyways not going to waste your time with a long note. Read, Enjoy, Review. **

It's a fun fact to know that as you get older, people _do_ mature. They no longer hold gatherings where sneaking in beers were almost as cool as sliced bread, or get super wasted so that they throw up everywhere. No, parties are classier, sophisticated, at least that's what I thought happened. Upon arrival, I quickly noted that coming here was a bad idea, whether it was the large amounts of people trying to fit in a relatively moderate sized house, or the drunken cries I heard coming from the back. Almost as horrifying, to me personally, were the large splashes I heard that followed the screams and shouts. This, all prior to my entry.

Shooting a worried glance at Bex, she calmly placed a hand on my shoulder and led me inside. There was no use ringing the doorbell because no one would hear it. What we were met with when we entered the house was no high school party, similar, but slightly more legal. Music was blaring as people conversed in various places. A couple of people held beers while others drank sodas or water. We were yet to encounter our host, and I was no looking forward to it at the slightest. Bex, on the other hand, must have seen him because she jetted off in one direction or another. Grant had disappeared like a ghost the second the door closed behind me.

I noticed Bex returning. I wasn't ready to face him quite yet, so using a power I had harnessed in college after being dragged by Bex to multiple parties I had no intention of attending, I blended into the surrounding people. After blending and hiding, I managed to find myself in the kitchen. The back door was open, letting smells of barbecue waft through. I found one of the drink coolers lying on the ground. Opening it up, I pulled out a bottle of water and chugged it down. I felt beyond socially awkward at the moment. People buzzed around me, while others sprinted by almost knocking me down.

To further avoid Bex, I found that the best solution would be to keep moving. I explored the rest of the house, excluding the upstairs, however this did not do much for me seeing as his house was a giant circle. The living room, where the front door was located, connected to the family room, which joined into the kitchen. From the kitchen there was a bathroom linking you to an office, which opened back up into the living room. I had done about four laps around the entire bottom floor when I decided to go outside. There was a pool and some lounge chairs. People were splashing and yelling, as water flied everywhere. The sun was setting slightly in the west, illuminating the sky a bright orange. I could feel the temperature starting to drop.

While admiring the setting sun, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I prepared for the worst. Running through all the scenarios in my head, I couldn't seem to find one that ended up with me being happy and without a broken heart. Whether he took me back or painfully rejected me and kicked me out, I knew that by the end of tonight I'd be broken. However, who I turned around to see was not who I expected.

"Um, hi Preston, what are you going here?" I questioned. I didn't think that anyone we really knew would be here. Did everyone but me keep in contact with Zach? Well, if they did, that kind of sucks a lot.

"Why did you miss me?" Preston teased. He was still your slightly more than geeky kid, man, person. His black hair was still greasy and slick. His wrist still adorned his Spiderman watch no matter how many times Macey had attempted to get ride of it. Trust me, it's a lot. I've even helped on a couple of occasions, but it always manages to come back, I'm almost positive it's cursed. When you use a blowtorch, half a stick of dynamite, _and_ a ninja sword, and it _still_ doesn't work, there's definitely something wrong. I think she gave up about two years ago on trying to get him to get rid of it.

"Um, that's not exactly it." I replied unsurely, "It's just you seem like the stay at home kind of person, not the 'ya! Let's go out and get wasted and party' kind of person."

"I think I could say the same about you. Why are you even here Cam? I thought you didn't like this guy?"

"Let's just say that I didn't really have a choice, and it's not that I don't like him, we just have a complicated past, remember?"

"All I remember is that you pinned over him for years and he made you sad and by my standards that's enough reason to hate someone." Preston leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why are you giving me guy advice?" I asked while chuckling.

"Don't you remember the special summer we shared, for that summer you and Bex went away, but lost each other and your phone died, so you came running to yours truly for help." That summer was coming back in fragments, but Bex and I had some crazy adventures during those summers so I'm not going to lie and say that I remember every single detail.

"Not exactly, enlighten me. Please." I gestured for him to continue with a wave of my hand then tilted my head.

"Well, you said that you and Bex got separated at some hotel, something about a car mix up, outside of D.C. so you tried to hail a cab. When you did the guy put all your luggage in the car and then drove off with your wallet and clothes." Now it's coming back. That guy was such a creep. "So you tried to call someone but your phone died. You never told me why you didn't call Macey, or Bex, or Liz, or Grant, or Jonas, or even Graham for Pete's sake, but you called me. You called me, told me to pick you up, and not to tell anyone." I do remember this; this was the summer that I ran. There was no car mix up. Bex had been telling me that I needed to get over Zach and get with someone else, but I wasn't ready, I'm still not ready. Anyways, I got really mad and took a cab into D.C., which was only about a half an hour away from where we were staying. When I was leaving the cab after I paid the guy drove off with my clothes. My phone had died so I used a pay phone and got whatever spare change I could from my pockets. You'd be surprised at what complies in there.

I called Liz and she had told me the Bex was super sorry, and that I needed to meet her at this location. I told Liz to tell Bex that I need to be alone for a while. I chose to leave out the part about the cab driver stealing all my stuff, but Liz had to promise not to tell anyone where I was or that I called. She didn't question why, but I think she understood my reasoning. That's when I called Preston.

"I remember now, this was around the fourth of July, you and I watched the fireworks together. I can't thank you enough for that summer Preston, it-it really meant a lot to me, just having someone to listen to me, not pressuring me to move on." I gave him a smile.

"No problem Cam, I'd do anything for you, remember, you saved me." I blushed at the memory. There was a speeding car coming down the street, and I pushed him out of the way, I wasn't a lifesaver, I was just in the right place at the right time. Currently, I was definitely not.

"Heads up!" a masculine voice yelled. I barely had enough time to react when a large man came plowing in between Preston and I. Preston was knocked to the side, and I backward. Unluckily, I was pushed into the pool. Déjà Vu. Except the last time I was being thrown in by a drunken footballer, this time I was knocked into the pool by a drunken footballer. I officially hate parties.

My back hit the water, nearly hitting a couple playing Pepper in the water with a beach ball. The water was freezing, and I could feel my clothes beginning to stick to me. Just wonderful. Luckily this time, I didn't hit my head causing me to go to the hospital. It seems whenever I got to a party that has Zach in it, I manage to get hurt. This isn't a good trend.

Hopping out of the pool, I ran over to a chair and immediately started to wring out my clothes. Preston soon joined me with a towel. I smiled at him and gratefully took the towel.

"Well" I deadpanned, "this sucks."

"Are you okay?" Preston asked concerned. Aw, he's a sweetie.

"I'm fine, just cold." The sun had gone down, and stars began to illuminate the sky.

"I have extra clothes in my car, I'll go get them for you." Preston began to push through the crowd as I sat on my chair shivering. I tried and failed to straighten out my hair and put it back into its sloppy bun. I was able to put it back into a ponytail, but the hair was too wet that it wouldn't go back into a bun.

Preston returned shortly, carrying a blue and white-stripped t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He handed me the clothes and I ran to the nearest bathroom. The shirt hung loosely off my frame, while the shorts were too big. I managed to find some sort of safety pin in Zach's bathroom to attempt to make them tighter. Today was turning out to be one of those types of days. Where it just seems like everything goes wrong.

Exiting the bathroom, I found that everyone had gathered inside the house for something. No one was outside. The pool water was flat, and everyone came huddled in a circle around in the living room. Were the cops here or something? Finding Preston across the room, I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged in response.

"Thank you everyone for your attention." I recognized that voice. It was Grant. He was standing on top of a table or chair or something to make him taller. What was he doing? "I know some of you may not know who I am," Someone in the crowd yelled out something along the lines of "No shit Sherlock!" However, he continued, "but my name is Grant Newman, and I have a just want all of your attention for five quick minutes. For those of you who do know me, I am in a wonderful relationship at the moment with the amazing Rebecca Baxter."

I saw Bex storm to the center of the circle looking ready to punch Grant square in the jaw if he didn't shut up.

"There she is." Grant smiled and offered Bex his hand. In return Bex stared at him, mouth agape, face looking purely astonished. She shook her head and declined his offer to join him.

The room was dead silent and it would have been impossible not to hear Bex hiss, "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Some cackled while others remained silent. I, like most, chose the latter.

"Look everyone, Bex and I have known each other since elementary school. We've had rough patches when it came to our relationship, but I knew that the day I first heard her melodic accent, first saw her graceful movements, first felt her brutal individualism that I could do nothing less that want to be with her. I was next to her from her first heartbreak to her first love, which I can say did nothing more than tear me apart. I'm not going to lie when I say I beat the living crap out of that guy." A few people chuckled at this.

"But I guess what I'm trying to say is that. I really love this girl and I can't help how I feel. No matter how cheesy this speech may sound to anyone of you, this is the truth and these are my real feelings. But I guess what I'm trying to say is, Bex," Grant got off his stool/chair thing and walked strait over to her. Bex had tears in her eyes, her hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

"Bex, I just need to know, will you please become Mrs. Grant Newman?" He got down on one knee and pulled out a black box. Flipping the lid open, Grant revealed a diamond ring. The ring had a slim gold band, with diamond studs all around it. I swear it illuminated the entire room.

She was speechless, struggling for words; I could see the tears begin to run down her face. That's when she did something no one ever-expected Rebecca Baxter to do. She ran. You could hear a pin drop in that room it was so quite after she ran. I shot a glance over to Preston and he understood. Trying to consol Grant, who was standing there, mouth hanging wide open, tears beginning to streak down his face, Preston lead him out of the room. I sprinted after Bex, pushing people by left and right. While running I saw a mop of dark brown hair, and a flash of green eyes staring at me. I knew who it was, but at the moment he could be getting stabbed multiple times and I would still go after Bex.

I found her at a park with the pigeons. Her face was in her hands and I could hear her sobs. Pigeons were hopping around her. I sat down next to her and began to rub circles in her back shushing her. This was the first time I'd seen Bex cry. She was so strong; I still don't understand why she ran.

"You must hate me." She straggled out.

"I could never hate you. Yes, Grant is a close friend, but you're even closer. We're not even friends, we're sisters. Nothing will change that. I won't ever leave your side, no matter what you do or say."

"I can't believe I ran. I-I-I don't even know why ran." Bex began to wail again. Mothers gathered their children and exited the park, away from the girl having a mental breakdown.

"There's a reason behind every action. Aware of it or not, answers to questions will come. You know why you ran; you just don't want to confront it. It's primal instinct fight or flight. In your case, instead of fighting your emotions and following your heart, you chose to flee, shielding yourself from what you think could end in heartbreak." I was all too aware of the feeling. I had done the exact same thing.

"I can't sit here and lie to you." Bex choked out. " I know why I ran. I ran because I didn't deserve him. He says he's loved me always. I haven't recuperated the feelings. During one of the periods we were apart, I was with someone else." I stared at her I blank shock. She'd never told me about anyone else.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I interrogated.

"I knew you wouldn't approve, you'd probably never talk to me again if I told you who it was. But I know Grant was never with anyone else, he told me, last week. I-I just can't do this to him. I know we weren't even together at the time, but I still feel like I cheated on him."

"Who was it Bex?" I demanded.

"Josh." Please, tell me I heard that wrong. Please tell me that my best friends did _not _go out with one of the guys that broke my heart.

"How long?" The information was still processing in my mind. How could Bex do something like this to me?

"One date. I wasn't even sure it was a date, up until he gave me a semi-kiss thing at the end."

"Look, I still stand by what I said before," I told her, voice even, although, currently, I wished no more than to yell at her and demand why she even considered something of a date with Josh. "I'll still stand by you no matter what your decision. What I recommend for you now is go find Grant. If you love him tell him yes. If you don't, tell him. Don't put him through any more pain than he's going through right now. Now come on, let's go." I pulled Bex off the bench and lead her back to the house.

Upon our arrival, we received many death glares, along with some people whispering strings of curse words in our direction. I found Grant and Preston sitting on a couch. Grant was running his hands through his hair, while Preston tried his best to console him. Sending Bex outside, I began to approach Grant. I noticed that Zach was nowhere in sight. Asshole.

"Grant?" I asked. His head lifted up. I noticed right away that his eyes were puffy and red.

"Why? Why would she run? Did I- did I do something wrong? I-I don't understand." His voice was shaky and horse.

"Look Grant, I know I'm in no place to ask you to do this, but I need you to talk to her. I need you to go out side and just try to have a civil conversation with her. Please. I'm begging you. Just think of the situation I'm in." I pleaded Grant. I could tell he was debating in his head whether or not to go. I would get down on my knees right now and beg, plead, scream, do anything for him to go talk to Bex.

"Fine. I'll go." His voice was even now, face stone cold. I repeatedly thanked him and told him now much it meant to me that he was going this. He just nodded and shrugged me off. My teddy bear was gone.

Once Grant left, I went in search of Preston. I need to know what happened after I left. Searching around the house, I finally saw him in the kitchen. However, whom he was talking to, I was not prepared to see. Even over the yells of the people and the blares of the music, I still heard what Zach said. I know he didn't see me, or else he would not have said it. The words were loud and clear in my mind however.

"Preston, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend."


	4. Did This Really Just Happen?

**Hey everyone sorry for not updating in such a long time. I've been super busy with school, and have barely had any time to myself to just enjoy life. This is a four day weekend though so hopefully I'll get something done. Plus, I've just been having one of those months. Now I know how Cammie feels when Zach sends her cryptic messages, I'm not even joking. Boys are just grrr. Whatever, I'll try to update sooner (ha, how many times have I said that?) Anyways, Read. Enjoy. Review. :) **

Have you ever felt like you've been shot? Maybe stabbed in the back, be it by a friend or a foe. The feeling rips your insides apart, the fragile tissue of your heart breaking and slowly pealing away, leaving your most raw emotions and fears to be exposed. To trust is one thing, however to love is another. Trust can be broken, promises can be shattered, love, however, beaten and bludgeoned, be it as it may, will remain intact. Try as many will, you never truly get over someone.

Those eight words, as insignificant to one as they may seem, caused my vital organs to split in two. My stomach exploded, my heart ripped, my brain drained into a pile of goo. Leaning out for balance, I could feel my breath suddenly be knocked out of me. I would nothing more like to expose myself, show Zach that I knew everything. However, my body was keeping me inept from movement due to Zach's sudden revelation. The people passing around me began to blur, mixing into each other as they streamed past me. Time slowed down, slowly coming to a halt. Peoples' images stayed still, as my lungs stopped functioning.

My knees buckled from under me as I slid down the wall. I tried for air, but the air passages in my throat had swollen to the sizes of grapefruits, restricting the flow of flow of oxygen to my brain. My vision began to blur, as black spots began to appear. Within the second, my sight had gone completely black as my brain began to shut down. The last I heard was a scream.

What seemed like days later, I lay face up on the floor, blurred worried faces looking down on me. Throat burning and vision slowly returning, I forced myself to sit up. My brain however, had different ideas. A sharp pain coursed through my head, leaving me paralyzed on the floor. The faces were slowly coming into sight. I was able to make out Bex, Grant, and Preston around me. Turning my head to the side, I noticed Bex's hand. On her right ring finger adorned a gold and diamond ring.

"You said yes," I managed to croak out.

"You scared the bloody hell out of us!" Bex screamed flinging her arms around me. She lifted me up into a sitting position, causing my head to scream once again. Grant and Preston wore relieved smiles, as you heard a crowd, who had gathered around me, let out a collected breath of air. Soon after, the crowd dispersed, leaving Bex, Preston, Grant, and I alone. The party had been donned over as people filed out of Zach's house. The host himself was nowhere to be seen.

Upon our arrival outside Bex began to bombard me with questions, from the time she left me to the time she found me passed out. I answered them as best as I could, yet I was unsure of what had exactly had happened myself.

"Bex," I signed, "I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, I don't really know exactly what happened. All I know is that I was looking for Preston, the next I'm passed out on the floor." Lie. I know what I heard; I know why I passed out. Bex didn't have to know that though.

"Preston!" Bex shouted. He was on the phone by the car, most likely talking with Macey about today's events. When he heard Bex's shout, he immediately hung up his phone and ran to meet her.

"Where were you when Cammie passed out?" He looked unsure of himself, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, while avoiding direct contact.

"I was talking to," the end of his sentence was mumbled, and we were unable to decipher his quite voice.

"English man!" Grant demanded.

"I was talking to Zach, and he introduced me to his new girlfriend!" Preston yelled. After doing so, his eyes widened, as well his hand clamping firmly over his mouth. Hearing the news all over again caused my head to throb. I could feel the pressure building, and the tears building up.

"Please tell me your joking." Bex demanded. Sadly, Preston shook his head no. I could see the fire lighting in Bex's eyes, as her hands clamped firmly into fists.

"Bex, no. Let's, please, let's just go home." I pleaded. I hopped in the shotgun seat of Bex's car as Grant slid into the driver. Grumpily, Bex slid into the backseat, muttering obscenities at Zach.

The car ride back to our apartment was silent. I knew that if there were words to be said, they would only result in something bad. Bex tried to talk; I just shook my head 'no' and continued looking out the window. You'd think that the new soon-to-be-wed couple would want to talk more, but at the moment I just felt like a super awkward, super depressing, super stupid third wheel.

When we arrived at our apartment, I requested to Bex, "Can I please talk to Grant alone for a little bit Bex? I just need to ask him a few things." Reluctantly, Bex nodded yes, and exited the car.

Grant's eyes were trained on the wheel, not daring to look me in the eye.

"So she said yes?" He didn't respond, keeping eyes everywhere but on me. I realized he didn't want to talk about this: our situation, or the events of today. I continued to question him. "You knew didn't you?"

"Yes." He continued to avoid eye contact with me.

"Was that voicemail even about me?"

"No."

"Why didn't you tell me?" That was the question I wanted answered most. I didn't care that the voicemail was about me. I didn't care that he knew (well a little bit), but I just wanted to know why? I know everyone has a motive for his or her actions, but sometimes the motive doesn't meet the action preformed.

"You'd get hurt." He said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"I'd get hurt either way, why not let me know, give me a warning, instead of having me find out by myself?" I stared directly at him. I saw his head slightly turn, so he could look me in the eye.

"This wasn't something for me to meddle in. This is something you and he need to work out. I can't change what happened in the past, but I can sure as hell make sure that the future is better!" I stared right into his blue irises, and found a hidden anger I did not expect to find.

"Did Bex know?" Grant's a loyal friend; be it to Zach, or me, but if Bex were to hide something like this from me, I'd be broken beyond repair. Knowing my best friend, my _sister_, would hide something like this from me could potentially catapult me back into the saddened state I had been in when I returned from our first summer trip.

"No." Letting out a sigh of relief, I leaned over and gave Grant a hug. He seemed astonished by the action, but the gesture was correct. He wrapped his arms around me, and I smiled into his shoulder.

"Thank you," I whispered, "I may not agree with your decision, but your heart was in the right place. Thank you Grant, Bex is lucky to have you." Grant released me from his grasp, and I exited from the passenger door.

Grant left shortly after I exited his car. Turning back to the house, I let out a sigh and begrudgingly picked up my feet. My hand was on the doorknob when a voice spoke that sent chills up my spine.

All it said was, "Wait," but it was enough to stop me in my tracks. I felt my breath hitch and my hand froze millimeters from the door. Leaves crunched behind me and I felt a presence behind me. Refusing to turn, I could feel the person's hesitation.

"Please turn around," the voice commanded. They placed their hand on my shoulder and I felt jolts of electricity running throughout my body.

"Give me one good reason why I should talk to you instead of just walking through this door and continuing with my life." I demanded.

"Because you need to talk to me as badly as I need to talk to you." Zach sighed.

"Not good enough." My hand continued its trek towards the doorknob, turning the cool metal, and then swinging the door open. I would not have been surprised if Zach got a face full of wooden door at that point, more importantly I could have cared less.

It seems as though it's every girl's dream to be chased by an extremely attractive guy, right? Where they follow you through the parking lot in the poor rain, then sweep you into romantic kiss and apologize for whatever dumb thing they've done? Wrong, it's just plain, damn, annoying. I will admit I got some weird looks while stomping through our apartment complex's lobby with a famous footballer chasing after me. Luckily for me, I had some football-crazed neighbors, so Zach was having trouble keeping up with me, while keeping up his image as a fan-loving player, not a cold-hearted jerk.

While wrestling my way through the crowd of adoring fans, I was able to make it to the elevator, while Zach was still stuck in the middle. It was definitely one of those clichés when the loving boyfriend tries to get into the elevator at the very last second and barely makes it by a fingernail. Well, this time, the odds seem to be in my favor, because the door closed with a _ding_ before Zach was able to get in.

Pressing my floor number, I slid down against the wall. Pulling out my ponytail, I ran my hands through my hair. My breath was returning to normal, but looking down at my hands, I could see they were still shaking rapidly.

All of a sudden the elevator stopped with a _ding_. Assuming it was my floor picked myself up off the ground and began to head out. Before I left though, I checked to make sure I was on the right floor. I found I was about three floors too early. A young man, about my age, seeming, entered the elevator. I'd never seen him before, and I knew everyone in this complex. He had dark hair and was about six inches taller than me, placing him at six foot three. He had a lean, muscular figure, and a serine smile. That's when I realized I was checking him out. Blushing madly, I turned to look at the interesting corner of the elevator.

He glanced over at me and gave me a side smile. This caused me to blush even more. Then turning back to the front of the elevator, his face scrunched up, like his was thinking or concentrating hard on something. Suddenly, I felt the elevator jerk to a stop. Loosing my footing (as always) I fell onto the stranger. He toppled over along side with me. The elevator was stuck.

The stranger beside me began to laugh. I'm not sure what about our predicament was amusing, but I was as scared as hell at the moment.

"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny! We're going to die!" I yelled at him. As you can see, I don't do well in stressful situations. "Ugh, newbees." I groaned.

"Come one Cammie, really? We're going to die? I know you're better than that." I was about to come up with a clever retort, when I realized _I never told him my name_.

"Wha-how-wait, what is going on here? Who are you how do you know my name?" I stuttered on my words, and slowly crept away to the furthest side of the elevator, as far away from the man as I could.

"Oh, you know I watch you in your sleep, the typical creeper vampire crap that girls are into these days." He gave me a wink, and I discreetly pulled out my cell phone and began to call Bex. This guy was going _way_ to far.

"Tell me how you know who I am right now, or I'll spray you with the pepper spray I have in my pocket." I know it was a far-fetched lie, but this guy didn't know that.

"Okay, A. I know you don't have any pepper spray, and B. if you did and you used it in a confined space like this you'd be in the same amount of pain as me." He laughed and sat down on the floor of the elevator.

"Just tell me how the hell you know my name!" I demanded.

"Fine, fine, I relent," he held his hands up in the 'I surrender' pose. "But let me ask you this first. Do you seriously not recognize me?" I looked at him again. This time really _looked_ at him. He had a ski jump nose and blue eyes. His hair nipped at the back of his neck, and noticed a little scar in the shape of a crescent at the base of his left ear. His face seemed familiar, but I couldn't seem to place a name to it.

Shaking my head 'no' he began to chuckle again. "Seriously?" he began, his deep voice sending tremors my way. I shivered at his casualness about this entire situation.

"It's me, Josh, your best friend all the way up until the sixth grade?" Well, crap. That's not good at all. I definitely remember Josh, but maybe I can convince him that I don't. I mean he probably knows about my "accident" but I'm almost positive he doesn't know I remember him.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I do." Josh let out a heavy sigh then stood up to stand next to me. He leaned against wall, placing his hands on the rails.

"You always were the worst liar Cam, I mean remember that time when your mom was asking about how you accidentally turned your hair bright orange? That was an interesting day." I actually don't remember this, but I guess if I wanted more information about my past, this would be easiest.

"So now I know your lying, but why? Why not embrace your old best friend?" Josh inquired.

"Why? Why?" I asked him astonished, "Because I still remember what you did, I don't understand _why_ you did it, but I'm not sure I can handle you in my life right now, with everything else that's going on. I just need to sort my life out." Josh nodded and pulled me to the ground to sit next to him. I glared at him and he just smiled in return.

We sat in silence for about ten minutes until the speaker in the elevator crackled to life.

"Hello? Hello? Is anyone inside?" The voice was muffled and fuzzy, but we were able to make out the words.

Finding the speaker button on the elevator, I was able to tell the elevator engineer, "Ya, there's two of us in here. What happened?"

Coming back to life, we heard, "We're not sure, but we're trying out best to get you out. We're going to have to bring you down. Do not panic, you'll be out in no time." I could feel my palms heating up. Usually when people tell you not to panic that's one of the first things you do. I began to take deep breaths like I was taught during physical therapy because I tended to have panic attacks during my recovery.

Although my breathing had slowed, my heart was still beating erratically. Josh tried putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. Suddenly his hand was jerked away. The elevator lurched again, and for a moment, we were weightless. The elevator stopped with a sickening snap, causing both Josh and me to be thrown back to the ground. My head smacked back on impact, and I was sure I was going to have serious whiplash when this was through. Both sitting up, I asked Josh if he was okay. He nodded his head while rubbing his neck.

I went over to the call button and filled the operator in on what had just happened. "Okay," the operator responded, "Most likely, one of the security cables just snapped causing you drop a floor or two. We're trying to find your location right now. Hopefully it dropped you in front of a door so we can just pry it open. We'll be able to tell you momentarily. Just keep calm and you'll be fine." I took deep breath and returned to my corner of the elevator, and Josh returned to his. Surprisingly, not two minutes later, the speaker crackled to life once more. My mind immedeatly started jumping to conclusions. _The elevator is running out of oxygen. The elevator chords are breaking and we're going to fall to our deaths. That wasn't Josh, just a serial killer waiting to take his next victim. _The conspiracies went on and on.

"Cammie! Cammie!" a frantic voice spoke, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" It was Zach. What was he doing?

"Zach," I growled when I reached the call button, "what are you doing? Are you insane? Get off of there. You're going to get in trouble, or get Josh and me killed!"

"Josh? What are you talking about? Why is Josh in the elevator with you?" I heard muffled arguing in the back. The only words I could make out were "talk" and "autograph." Typical.

"Zach put the elevator operator person back on. I want to get out of here." I rolled my eyes, though I doubted he could see me. Josh, however, did and began to laugh.

"I can hear you." Zach growled, "Cam, don't worry we're going to get you out of there, then we're going to talk, whether you like it or not." I heard a second voice in the background. The British accent unmistakably Bex's.

"Cam? Josh is there with you? Bloody hell, you're having a bad day. Don't worry I'll keep this fool away from you when you get out of there. Just don't panic, you'll be fine. Everything is going to be just fine!" Leave it to Bex to freak out when it's not even her in trouble. I'm lucky to have a friend like her, one who will always be by my side no matter what.

I heard Zach in the background shouting something that sounded like, "Good luck with that Baxter." It almost reminded me of when we all used to joke around when Zach and I were dating. I felt my smile turn to a frown at the end of that thought. Bex shouted something back, as static crunched in the speaker.

"The firemen just arrived and you guys should be out in no time." The elevator operator told Josh and me. I let out a breath of relief I hadn't even realized I was holding. The speaker ended with a click, and I had a feeling that this was the last time we'd be hearing it.

"Classic," Josh chuckled. "You always seem to attract the same type of people Cam." I looked at him quizzically, but he continued, "Oh please. Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. Doesn't Bex remind you at even the _slightest_ of Ashely? How about your friend Liz, isn't it? I met her at the hospital one time while you were passed out. She's _exactly_ like Alex." I thought about it a little and they were similar, but not exactly the same. Just as I was about to reply, I heard the screeching of metal on metal, thus opening the doors to the elevator to open. We were free.

"Follow us, the elevator is extremely unstable. We have to get you out of here as soon as possible." One of the firemen directed us into the hall. The elevator screeched and screamed as our weight was lifted out of it.

"You two must return to the lobby to be checked out by the paramedics. There was a gas leak in one of the upper apartments so everyone was evacuated. Your elevator was high up enough that you were exposed as well. Once you are checked you will be discharged and allowed to go home." Gas leak? Is that why Bex was in the lobby? Who am I kidding? There's not time to worry about a frivolous gas leak right now. I was on my way down to the lobby, down to Zach, down to heartbreak, down to hell.

Did all this really just happen?


	5. A Turn For The Worst

**I'm not even going to try to apologize, but here goes, sorry guys. I made this one extra long if it makes up for it. So Read. Enjoy. Review. 3 you all **

The stairwell held a passageway of darkness. As they winded own, like coils on a snake, I stood petrified at the top. My legs refused to move and the air around me felt as if it began to thin, leaving me short of breath and lightheaded. Placing a hand on my shoulder, the fireman nudged me, encouraging me to begin my descent. I attempted to lift my leg, but found it numb with fear. Josh, sensing my apprehension, stepped forward. He extended his hand that I gladly took.

"Thank Josh, I really need a friend right now." He just gave me the same silly, lopsided grin he used to give me when we were kids. Sadly, I still felt my heart flutter at the very sight. I can't begin to imagine how I'm going to react when I see Zach smirk.

We were several floors above the lobby, so it took almost an hour for all of us to finally escape the stairwell. A fireman had managed to go in front of both Josh and I, which I think personally, he should have done first instead of half way down. When the door opened, people crowded around us, shoving us, asking questions. I felt overwhelmed as we were shuffled to a nearby paramedic. Oxygen masks were placed around our noses and mouths and we were asked basic questions.

After a grueling interrogative hour, Josh and I were finally released to wander the lobby. The gas leak hadn't been repaired yet so we weren't permitted to go our rooms. Great, so I'm stuck in the lobby trying to avoid both my frantic roommate and ex-boyfriend while being comforted by an ex-best friend/complication.

Turing to Josh I asked, " Okay, this might sound weird, but I need you to help me get out of here without anyone seeing me leave. Will you help me?" Josh gave me a strange look then burst out laughing.

"If this has anything to do with Bex and that guy Zach, I'd be happy to help. Follow me." Josh took my hand and I immediately felt my face heat up. To think that'd I would need help not getting noticed was almost laughable. I had never had trouble blending in, and now that everyone's attention was directed to me, I felt squirrelly and uncomfortable.

There was a news crew stationed by the paramedic's base. They had already interviewed us and the head of the fire crew that was managing the gas leak had told them of the situation. Most of the crew had finished packing and was heading out to their news vans. Josh and I managed to sneak out with a large crowd of newscasters. We received funny looks from the cameramen, but the shrugged it off and allowed us to sneak away with them.

Once Josh and I decided that we had successfully escaped the building without being seen, we sprinted a block before we finally turned around to check. Collapsing into the patio seating of a local coffee shop, we shared a quick glance then burst into laughs. We received some strange glance from the other patrons, however we were too preoccupied with our fit of laughter. A waitress came over and took our orders. Giving a fleeting look between Josh and me, I saw her mouth quirk up into a slight smirk.

Before she left Josh asked, "Could you please turn that television to the local news?" The waitress nodded, clicked the channel, and then went to submit our order.

_Earlier today at the Standing Apartment Complex a toxic gas leak exposed many residents of the building to high concentrations of carbon monoxide. Residents were quickly evacuated except for two. One resident and one visitor were stuck inside an elevator just below the gas leak. The two victims, who request to remain nameless, were promptly rescued and treated. Both are reported to be okay and safe inside the building. _Josh and I shared a glance then let a small giggle release. _Authorities report that the building should be clear within the next two to three hours. This has been Michelle Nikes reporting from West 85__th__ Street New York, New York. _

The waitress brought back our drinks and let us enjoy them in peace. "So it looks like your suck with me until tonight," Josh said with a smile. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm going to be quite honest with you Josh, I'm beat. I've had a long day." I rubbed my temples as I sipped my hot chocolate. It was cold outside and it was too late for coffee, Josh however, thought all time was coffee time.

"Why don't we go hang out at my place? It's not too far from here, _and_ it's not contaminated with toxic gas. We could watch a movie or something." Josh's offer sounded tempting, but going over to his house? I pined over this guy for who knows how long, and now, years later, he's inviting me over to his house to watch a movie. He seemed to notice my hesitation and the look in my eyes. "No, no, no, no, not like that Cam, I mean just to relax and hang out, you know, as friends?" He had this pleading, puppy-dog look on his face that I knew he used since the day he was born to get the things he wanted. I knew this mainly because he used to practice it on me all the time. I guess old habits die hard.

"Alright, let's go. How far away is it? It looks like it's about to start raining. Now that I say that aloud, it sounds a bit cliché." I chuckled at my own silliness as Josh flagged down our waitress. Kindly, he paid the bill (much to my protest) and then helped me out of my chair like a proper gentleman would do.

Josh's house was about a mile away from the coffee shop. It was a snug place, squeezed between two large buildings. Halfway through our walk back to Josh's house, rain began pouring down. It seemed almost like a movie scene when we started running with our hands over our heads. Pulling out his keys, Josh opened the door; pretend to bow as he held it open. I laughed and nudged him in the arm and sprayed a little water from my hand onto him. He feigned pain then shook his hair our soaking both the surrounding pictures and furniture and me. It almost felt like the times back in sixth grade when we would just mess around after school; just two kids without a care in the world.

"Josh! Is that you buddy?" Crap. Even after all this time, Dillon's voice didn't change. Although it was slightly lower, I could still hear the slight malice that was hidden behind soft words. The fake concern and greedy snarl that came with some of the things that he said. I could hear Dillon's feat pounding down the hallway. Each of his steps rang like a clap of thunder.

Before Dillon was able to see me, I tugged on Josh's coat arm telling him, "I'm sorry Josh, I actually forgot that I have, um, something important to do that I forgot about. I'll see you around. I mean I'd love to stay but I _really_ have to go." I reached for the doorknob, turned it, then flung the door open. Josh had a look of complete confusion on his face. Just as I was about to make my escape from the house, Josh grabbed my arm.

"Wait, Cam, where are you going?" I heard Dillon about to turn the corner, when I yanked my arm from Josh's grasp.

"I told you, I just, I need to go. Please, _please_, Josh let me go." I had one foot out the door and one foot in out, quite literally, when Dillon finally spotted me. Crap, I'm toast.

"What are _you_ doing here," He snarled.

"Oh, um, Dillon, you remember Cammie, from elementary school?"

"I was just leaving." I muttered.

"You better have been." Dillon took a step to approach me when Josh flung himself in between us.

"Dude, chill, what's wrong with you?" Josh defended me. I tried to slip out the door, which was still open, while they argued, but Josh thwarted me by taking my hand in his.

"What's wrong? Dude, this _bitch_ shouldn't even be allowed to talk to you after what she did!" What I did? He should be the last one talking Mr. I-tried-to-kill-me.

"I don't care about that anymore! You need to show her respect Dillon, I don't care if you still have beef with her from however long ago, but that's the past and your problem not mine. I got over it, and you need to too."

"If I can be frank to say," I interrupted, "but what did _I _do? You shouldn't be throwing names around Dillon. I've kept my mouth _shut_ for years. Not even my mom knows what you did. So if you want to say something about me: tell me. Right here. Right now. I want to hear it." Josh looked between us. I could feel the heat radiating from myself from the pure hatred that I was experiencing.

"Okay bitch, you want to know what I think? I'll tell you. You are scum, from the deepest pits of hell. I'll-my bad _we'll_ never forgive you for what you did. It was the lowest of the low, you deserve everything you've gotten." Dillon sneered at me then spat on my shoes. My mouth opened up and I was speechless. Never in my life have I been so insulted. I was about to lift my hand to slap the living daylights out of Dillon, when, instead, a flying fist made contact with his face. Dillon staggered back, clutching the side of his face by his jaw.

"What the hell man!" Dillon screamed.

"You don't talk to her like that!" I looked over and saw that Josh's face was red with fury. If this were a cartoon, I'm pretty sure you'd see his head explode, forget the steaming ears.

"Josh, you didn't have to do that." I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I should go. I've only caused problems, look, Josh this was a bad idea, maybe I'll talk to you later." I turned to leave when I heard Dillon sneer.

"Bye bitch." Dillon sneered, still clutching his face.

"On second thought." I turned on a dime, and then brought my knee up into Dillon's groin as hard as I could. That's the benefit of having three best guy friends growing up, at some point in time, they teach you how to fight. Dillon rolled on the ground writhing in pain, holding both in between his legs and his jaw.

"Bye Josh." I turned and ran down the street. I could feel tears stinging my eyes. Tears mixed with rain as I ran down the street.

"Wait! Cam! Stop!" Running after me, I heard Josh trying to weave his way through the streets of New York. "Please! Stop Cam, let me explain at least!" I stopped running and turned to face him. His hair was wet and sticking to his face, which was red and flushed. He was completely soaked.

"Please," he pleaded once more, "Just let me explain." Reluctantly, I nodded and followed him to a different, closer café. When we arrived we found it was just us and the baristas

Josh and I sat inside, poorly attempting to warm up. Once some color had to my hands and face, Josh broke the silence.

"Look, Cam, I'm so sorry. About everything." I opened my mouth to tell Josh to stop talking, but just shook his head. "No, you need to hear this. I'm sorry about the dance, that summer, today, just everything. You deserve to know what happened.

"Do you remember Carson Connors?" I nodded my head yes. He tormented Josh all the way through sixth grade, maybe even after that. He bullied him every day, sometimes physically, sometimes verbally. We had tried to get the teachers to do something about it, but they just said 'Oh Carson is such a perfect student, he couldn't possibly.' It was terrible. The worst part was that it was well known that he had a crush on me. Gross.

"Well," Josh continued, "the weekend before the last week of school Dillon showed me this picture. Well, actually, it was multiple pictures to be honest. The first one was of you and him in front of my house." I've never hung out with Carson before in my life! Where did Dillon get these pictures? "Remember how I told you that someone vandalized your house the week before graduation? Yeah, it was you and Carson in the picture in front of my house, holding bottles of spray paint. There were a couple of pictures like that one. The funny part though," Josh had tears in his eyes as he forced a laugh, "was that this one didn't hurt as much as the one that I saw after it. The next one was, well, it was you and him kissing." At this, my mouth fell open.

"Josh, what would make you think in a million years that I would ever do something like that!" I nearly shouted at him.

"I-I-I don't know what made me think they were true, it was just that Dillon had never lied to me before, why would he have lied to me then? I was so hurt and broken, I couldn't believe that you would have done something like that to me."

"Are you kidding me Josh, were you really that blind?" I almost laughed at how preposterous he was being, or had been.

"Cammie, I-I didn't know what to do, I was so, I don't even know, I want to call it love but I don't even know what it was. I was so broken, I was so…so…betrayed." Josh placed his head in his hands. I saw tears stream down his eyes and I knew that I must look similar, as I could feel the water stream down my cheeks and run off the edge of my face.

"You were in love with me?" I asked astonished. "Josh, I can't believed you never noticed. I was totally and completely infatuated with you. Do you know how much it broke me to tell you I was leaving? Do you know how painful it was when you cut off contact? It was horrible. Even at my birthday party when you showed up with Dee Dee, it broke me even more. I couldn't take it."

"I'm so sorry Cam, I should have told you, or asked you, or something. I should have talked to you."

"Look," I said, "Don't beat yourself up about it Josh, it was years ago. It doesn't make a difference because you didn't do anything about it. It's all in the past."

"No, Cam I did do something about it. I told Dillon about it. That's why he hates you so much because he thinks you broke my heart. And, he did something, and it was…just horrible. I still can't believe what he did."

"Josh, I'm going to be frank with you, my first kiss was with Zach, and that wasn't until junior year. You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over. I don't know where Dillon got those photos, but what happened in the past shouldn't affect our future. I just have one question for you."

"Anything," Josh said, eyes wide, "You can ask me anything."

"What did you mean you were sorry about the dance?" I saw Josh's face go pale.

"What are you talking about? I never said anything like that." Josh looked left and right, exactly how a guilty person would.

"Yes, you did." I retorted.

"Fine, I'm so sorry Cam, it was all Dillon's idea. I'm so sorry about him pushing you in. I didn't know what to do. He said it was an accident, but I highly doubted it was. I'm so sorry though Cam." Josh looked at me with a pleading look, but I could barely look at him.

"You…you knew?" I began to stand up to leave. "You knew and you're living with him now! I can't believe you! Goodbye Josh." I got up from my seat and stormed out of the café.

"Cammie! Don't go please!" I charged down the street, not daring to turn back to face Josh. This time, I found I didn't have a choice. Josh had caught up to me and yanked my arm. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine and I was stuck in his arms. I tried to push him away, but my arms were pinned at my side. When Josh finally released me, he spoke.

"This is the thing though Cam. It was I lov_ed_ you, it's I love you. As in I never stopped. Seeing you with Zach broke my heart, and I want you to give me a chance. Please." I shook my head know and tried to squirm out of Josh's grasp. "Please." He tried once again.

One second I was stuck in Josh's arm the next, I saw Josh five feet away from me, with another man in between. "You. Don't. Touch. Her." The man spoke. His voice was full of rage and anger, unlike I had ever heard before.

"Zach! What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Calm down dude, I'm sorry, it won't happen again. Cam, I can see that I need to go now, but if you ever change your mind, my cell number is still the same. I know you still have it. Call me anytime. Bye Zach." Josh turned and left. Zach and I watched beside each other as Josh disappeared into the distance. Now it was Zach's turn for an interrogation.

"Zach how did you find me?" I demanded.

"What were you doing with him? Why didn't you come find me when you got out of the elevator? Damn it Cammie! I was worried about you!"

"Zach. How. Did. You. Find. Me."

"I followed you okay!" He followed me? I was so sure that no one saw us even leave.

"So now you're a stalker." The words came out even harsher than I had meant them to. Good, he deserves everything that's coming to him. "Why are you even concerned about me. You don't care. You left remember? Or was just breaking my heart not enough, now you have to come and rub it in my face. You know what Zach I'm done with you."

"I am not a stalker, and plus I'm doing this for you! I'm doing this because I care about you Cammie. You were my first kiss, and to me that person means a lot to me. Now listen to me!" I ignored his words and trudged away. I don't need any of this. He moved on and I should too.

"Cameron, you turn around and listen to me!" Zach yelled.

"No," I turned to him, "You don't have the privilege of calling me that, in fact, you don't have the privilege of speaking to me at all _Zachary._ Besides, you've obviously moved on. How do you know that I still don't like Josh? You had no _right_." I shoved him right in the shoulder. I know that shoving a 180 pound professional football player may seem like a stupid idea, well, that's because it is. But I was _sick_ and _tired_ of his stupid little games.

"I had every right. I heard you guys talking before and I know that you don't love him the way he loves you. He doesn't know you."

"Oh like you know me _any better_! Stop trying to fool yourself Zach, you're just as bad as him. You left me when I needed someone, so stop trying to act like you're so much better than him, because _you're not_." That's when I turned and sprinted away. It seemed so simple. Run from your past, run from your problems, run.

"Cammie! Stop, don't run away from me!" Zach screamed after me. I heard his heavy footfall behind me as the rain pattered on the ground.

I ran as fast as I could. The rain froze my hands and feet. I was running on fifty percent adrenaline, and fifty percent anger. As I rounded the corner of the street I collided with a man. He swore and yanked me up by my hand. The behavior was not unusual, as we did live in New York City, home of some of the rudest pedestrians in the world. This man, however, was different.

"Don't move," He grumbled into my ear. I felt something poke into my side. The object was cylindrical and cool, even against my numb skin I could tell what it was: the barrel of a gun. The man gripped my arm so tight I could feel the circulation draining from it.

"Walk." He grunted. My body was petrified, but luckily my feet knew what they were doing. They followed the man, looking completely natural. My breathing was ragged, and the man pushed the barrel even further into my side. I noticed a woman behind us whose pace quickened at the slightest amount.

"Get away from her!" I heard Zach yell behind me. _No, no you idiot! What are you doing!_ I thought. The man cursed once more as Zach continued to approach us. I gave Zach a pleading look, hoping that he would turn around and walk away when he saw it. Too bad luck wasn't on my side today. Zach kept on approaching then pushed the guy in the shoulder. The guy staggered a bit, sneered at Zach, and then turned. He turned just enough that Zach could see the gun placed on my side. I saw the color drain from Zach's face as he realized the terms of the situation. Busy New Yorkers pushed by us, completely ignoring the fiasco that occurring no more than two feet away from some of the closest ones.

I heard a quiet _pop_. If all my sense hadn't been on high alert I never would have heard it. Soon, the man had dropped his gun (I couldn't feel it against my side any longer) and was clutching his hand. The woman I had seen before was rushing over. As she approached, the man scrambled for his gun then sprinted off in the opposite direction. I watched him for as long as I could, but I lost him in the crowds of the busy New York streets.

"You two need to get out of here." The woman said to us. "Take this. Go to this address and don't move until I come for you. If anyone comes, don't answer it. You'll need this code. Now go. Now!" She shoved the paper into my hand then sprinted off in the direction of the man.

"Zach." His face was still pale and his I could see his hands shaking. "Zach, we need to go. Now. Follow me." He barely nodded, only slightly moving his head.

Taking Zach's hand I pulled him along. He was inconsolable. I soon learned why. My hand felt warm and sticky. "Zach?" I asked. As soon as I asked that, he collapsed on the ground. There was a dark spot forming in his jacket. I placed his arm over my shoulder and sprinted as hard I could, using every ounce of adrenaline that my body would spare. I needed to get to where ever we had been told to go, and I needed to get there fast.

Zach had been shot.


	6. New Beginnings, Old Problems

**So this update was a little shorter (and sooner updated :D) than I expected, but I still hope you enjoy it. My mom said that once I finish this story, we might try and get me published, as a legit author! This would be the book too though, except for some differences. So you may be reading my first novel. Hope you're proud of yourself for that. Anyways Read, Enjoy, Review. **

I highly doubt any _normal_ person has lugged a 180-pound professional footballer through the crowded streets of New York. But, then again, when was my life ever normal? I had taken my jacket off and wrapped it tightly around Zach's shoulder in order to stop the bleeding. The rain continued to poor down on the gray city as Zach and I slipped and slid on the street. My hands were soaked as Zach's wound continued to pump fresh blood. I couldn't concentrate on that though; it would only delay me further. The address we were given by the woman was three blocks away from where we were. Had Zach been able to walk, at the least, we would have made it there in half an hour. But due to his lack of responsiveness, it was little over an hour before we arrived.

Confusion swept over me as we approached our destination. It was an orphanage. Well, more like an abandoned orphanage. The walls had peeling paint and the structure screeched from years of abuse. The door hung on one hinge and the windows were boarded shut. It was like a scene out of a horror movie. As desperately as I did not want to go in, I had no choice. Something big was happening and if Zach got shot for it, then it must be kept on the "down-low."

I hauled Zach up the steps using what remnants of adrenaline I had left. Searching for a reasonably clean spot on the floor, I set Zach down as softly as I could. His breathing had gone ragged, and he passed out. The jacket I tied around his arm was completely soaked now. The lady _must_ have sent us here with some idea of what was going to happen. I opened cupboards and cabinets in failing hope for something to clean the wound. In the final cupboard, I found some rubbing alcohol, a flashlight, and bandages. Quickly, I piled the supplies into my arms and sprinted to where I had set Zach down.

When I arrived back in the room he was in, I noticed we were no longer alone. The lady from the street was there. Only, she wasn't a lady anymore. She still had the same face, however her previously female physique was now distinctly male.

"Um, hello?" I asked, nearly dropping the supplies from my arms in shear surprise.

"Bring me those, I highly doubt you know what you're doing with them anyways." The person's voice donned a thick English accent, and I heard him mutter something beneath his breath that sounded like "Bloody Americans." The person removed pieces of latex skin from his face, as well as a fake nose. I could now tell that this was definitely a man. "Well, don't just stand there bring it to me!" He said breaking me from my trance.

"Sir, what's going on? Will he be okay?" I asked. The man grunted in response as he began work on Zach's shoulder. I could tell that Zach was still unconscious, but that did not mean he was oblivious to pain. I heard him moan and groan multiple times over the coarse of the next two and a half hours. When the man had finished operating on Zach, he turned to me. Zach's breathing had gone even and he had fallen into a peaceful slumber. He even smirked in his sleep. Delightful.

"My name is Operative Edward Townsend." The man introduced himself.

"Um, Cameron Morgan…civilian?" The last part of my introduction came more as a question rather than a statement. "Can you please explain to me what's going on Operative Townsend?"

"I'm afraid I can only tell you this much. You are in danger. New York is no longer safe for you, and you must leave. I have arranged for someone to pick you up in the morning and move you to your destination. I have arranged identities for the both of you as well as a statement to go home to your friends and family." The way Townsend described it made our situation almost seem as complicated as kindergarten math.

I couldn't believe how calm and serious I sounded. Not only could I hear blood pounding in my ears from the adrenaline filled day I've had, but also my stomach was about to fall out my butt. This is far gutsier I had ever been in my life. Never in my life would I have believed that I would be talking back to a member of the secret service, let alone meet someone in the secret service.

"Sir," I interrupted, "that may be all fine and dandy for me, but if you don't keep up with American sports, as I don't believe you are from this country due to your accent, _he_ might be more of a problem." How are you going to just say that one of the most adored NFL footballers just magically died and not expect anyone to look into it? I could feel my hands start to shake as Townsend turned towards me. He raised an eyebrow and gave me a bemused smirk. I mentally rolled my eyes.

"And what might that be?" Townsend challenged. The operative stood up a bit straighter, as if to challenge me.

"This is Zachary Goode: professional NFL player for the New York Giants. Just today he scored the winning touch down to win the super bowl. If you just say he died and/or disappeared out of now where, you're going to have people who ask questions and demand answers. You're not going to be able to get away with this as smoothly as you believe."

"But you forget my dear, people go missing all the time. He should be no exception. Besides, if he did indeed win the 'big game,' then even more people will want him out of the picture. Correct? The government works in ways that I highly doubt you understand Miss. Besides; we have excellent plastic surgeons and plenty of willing-ahem- assets, willing to be operated on. So we have nothing to fear." I shuddered at Townsend's suggestion. Does the government really store dead bodies for cases such as this? The thought almost moved my stomach from my butt, out my mouth, and onto the floor.

Townsend left moments later to an even more desolate portion of the orphanage. Being abandoned, the safe house had no electricity, so I was forced to use a candle. I never left Zach's side. He seemed so peaceful in his sleep; eyes closed and mouth quirked slightly upward. This man had been shot for me.

That stopped me. My gaze fell to his shoulder, which was tightly wrapped in bandages. Zach had been shot for me. The realization of my situation was finally setting in. I had almost died today and Zach had taken a bullet for me. I was never going to see my family again. Not my mom, not Abby, not Bex, not Macey, not Liz, not Grant, not Jonas, not anyone. I felt tears trickle down my cheeks, falling silently onto the dusty floor.

"I'm so sorry Zach," I sobbed, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." I moved to place my hand on his shoulder, but flinched back at the last second.

"No…" Zach moaned. He was awake! "Stop, please…no more. Please, don't. Stop! I didn't do anything wrong!" He began thrashing his head back and forth and attempted to lift his injured arm. After that, he screamed in agony.

"Zach! Zach!" I pleaded, shaking his good shoulder. "Zach! Wake up! It's just a dream, wake up!" I saw Zach's eyes fling open. His green eyes flashed with fear as they searched for an escape. They didn't seem like his eyes though. His were vibrant and clear, while now it seemed like they were clouded and shadowed.

"Get me out of here! I need to leave! Let me leave!" He attempted to get up again, but collapsed again in pain. I saw tears in his eyes as he attempted again. "I need to go! She needs me! Please, please, let me leave." Zach cried even harder now as I tried to wrestle him back down.

"What is going on?" Townsend yelled as he came in.

"I-I-I don't know." I stutter.

"Keep him down! I don't have any sedative so we're just going to have to ride this out." Townsend came over to help me try and keep Zach down.

"Zach, look at me. You're going to be fine. You just need to calm down." I tried reasoning with him, but nothing seemed to be getting through.

"Get away from me! It's all your fault anyways! Get out!" Zach thrashed even harder against us.

"Zach, listen! It's me, Cammie. You're going to be fine. We're all friends here." I pleaded with him. The fog seemed to be clearing from his eyes as he came to.

"Cammie?" He asked. His voice sounded broken and brittle. My name came out more as a plead for help than a sign of recognition. I could clearly see his eyes now and his mouth formed a smile as he passed out once again.

"Explain to me now what just happened." Townsend demanded.

I told him exactly what had happened upon him leaving us. As I continued, his brown furrowed and his eyes began to squint. Unsure of what to next I left Townsend with Zach. I needed to recover from the trauma I had just endured with that horrific event.

Townsend had assigned me to the room across from his. Zach had to stay where he was, if we moved him too soon, then his wound could reopen and he would bleed out in minutes. I did, however, bring him a blanket and pillow. If he was going to be forced to sleep on the ground, he might as well be comfortable.

As I was lifting his head to place the pillow there, I heard him groan once again. Ready to call Townsend in, incase of another "attack", I placed my hand over his good shoulder.  
"I'm sorry," he groaned. His voice sounded far off, almost as if he wasn't completely aware of what was going on (which I'm sure he wasn't).

"It's okay," I assured him, smoothing back his hair. "You're safe now and that's all that matters. Rest now, we can talk tomorrow." I got up and turned to leave Zach when I noticed Townsend.

"It won't last you know." He deadpanned. "I know an old flame when I see one. You act like he's not in your life anymore and then eventually, you come to believe it. Follow me Cameron." Townsend turned and sauntered into his room. I blew out the candle next to Zach and followed.

Townsend's room did not fit the look of the orphanage. The bed was shiny steel and a newly refurbished desk sat in the corner. A computer hooked up to a myriad of wires and other devices sat atop it. The windows, much like the rest of the orphanage were boarded up, and the only light came from a dim oil lamp in the center of the room. There were no pictures, no memoirs, nothing to remind him of home. It only reminded me how lonely life can be.

"Cameron, let me tell you a story if I may." I nodded and then prodded Townsend to continue. "I once knew someone. She was splendid. She was tough, but caring; beautiful, but plain; vicious, but sensitive; brazen, but sly. She was the complete package. I was completely in love with her. I don't care what you may think of me; an operative in love with a civilian. It's never been heard of. But one day, I had to end it. She despised me and I deserved every minute of her anger. I'm still in love with her to this day. Though, I know she is beyond my grasp. You may think that you two will last Cameron, but at some point, it falls. It always falls." Townsend shook his head, warding off bad memories.

"Who was she Townsend?" I was generally intrigued by his story. He was like the Josh in my strange love triangle.

"Her name was Abigail Cameron." I saw his eyes light up at the thought of my aunt's name. Gross, my aunt and this creep?

"I'm sorry things didn't work out Townsend, but Zach and I have been there-done-that. I'm afraid that he's more of that reoccurring pest that can't seem to get out of my life, rather than the one that I keep chasing." I tried to reason with Townsend, pleading my case that I did not love- or even like for that matter- Zachary Goode.

"You keep telling yourself that, but at one point or another Cameron, things will change. You must be willing to sacrifice your happiness and do what's best for him; if you truly care for the boy. Do not make my mistakes." He nodded a goodnight and I left him to his thoughts. Dropping into my bed, I found my dreams plagued with horror and loss.

"You're leaving tomorrow." Townsend said the next day at breakfast. We ate in the orphanage lobby close to Zach, who had still not awakened after yesterday's fiasco.

"Wait what? But Zach's in no condition to leave so soon! You saw what happened today. What would happen if that happened and no one was there to help him?" I continued to list out reasons why tomorrow was not a good time for us to leave.

Interrupting me, Townsend said, "You are. _He_ is not." What? "You've been assigned to different protectors, both on opposite sides of the country. This way, it is harder for them to target and 'eliminate' you. It's for the best." _No! _I mentally screamed.

"We have to go together!" I protested.

"Why?" Why? I stopped. Why did we have to be together? _Because he needs you_ I told myself. _But I hate him_ I argued back. _No, you wish you did_.

"What else is going on here Townsend?" I demanded. Call it a woman's intuition, but I could smell a rat: literally and figuratively.

"There may be more to Mr. Goode than a bullet wound. It's safer you not be around him right now. Here is the information about your residence. I suggest you read over it and be prepared to leave by tomorrow. Clothes and food will be provided. Goodbye Cameron, this will be the last time I see you."

"I'm not going anywhere without Zach. We got into this mess together and we're sure as hell not going to abandon each other half way through it." I got up to put my breakfast plate somewhere, anywhere, away from Townsend. If he thinks that he can just separate Zach and I without my resistance, he has another thing coming.

"Cameron, you do not have a choice. Whether they have to take you by force or by your own freewill: you will go. I don't like the decision any more than you, but as of now, you are a liability. Liabilities are never good, especially in this business. You and Zachary will be separated. I'm sorry." I turned to Townsend. Despite him giving off the aurora of a heartless, cold, man, he looked generally sorry for what we were going through.

"No…" We heard Zach moan in the distance. I shot a quick look to Townsend, reminding him of what had happened the previous day. He nodded to me and went to find a sedative of any kind, while I rushed off to Zach. If he were to have another episode, then it would be my duty to keep him from harming himself.

"Shhh" I cooed, "go back to sleep Zach. You'll be fine. Everything's going to be okay." I continued to whisper soft words into his ear, but he didn't seem to be going back to sleep.

"Cam, you don't have to pretend. I'm awake." Zach lifted his eyelid slightly then shut them immediately. "Man, it's bright in here." He joked. I felt tears prick at my eyes; hearing his voice, even if it was hoarse and quite was better than nothing at all.

"You're awake." I was obviously crying at this point. "I was so scared. Never do anything like that again, you stupid asshole!" I hugged him tightly, but not so much that I crushed his shoulder.

"So I guess you missed me Gallagher Girl?" Zach smirked and attempted to sit up. "Well that doesn't feel pleasant." He complained. "I can take a 220 pound linebacker but I can barely get up."

"Zach, you were shot. I don't blame you if you can't get up right now. You could have died." I reminded him.

"Still, what kind of man does that make me?" He tried to joke again. However, this was no laughing matter.

"You could have died."

"You don't think I don't know that Gallagher Girl? Yes. I know I could have died. Yes, I know that things are going to change now. Yes, I know that I'll never play in the NFL ever again. Yes, I know all these things. I just prefer not to think about them." That didn't even occur to me. Zach had sacrificed everything to have the chance to play in the NFL; even his relationship with me.

"Zach, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't been stupid and abandoned you at my apartment, none of this would have happened. I shouldn't have gone off with Josh. I should have stayed and talked things out with you. I-I-I was just so mad that you had moved on so easily and I was still recovering from you leaving me. Now that I think back on it, I sound like some stupid lovesick girl. Please, you have to understand Zach. I never meant for you to get hurt." I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, trying to make him understand.

"I forgive you Gallagher Girl. You never could have thought that any of this would happen. It's not like you told the guy to shoot me." He smirked, trying to make light of the situation, but I felt more like an emotional wreck than a playful jokester

"They're making me leave tomorrow." I told him.

"I know." His mouth straightened into a thin line and noticed his shoulders slump.

"We're going to be separated."

"I know."

"I don't want to leave Zach. What am I going to do?" I lied down next to Zach and placed my hand on top of his. I expected him to grasp mine in his, or push it off. What I didn't expect was for him to just leave it there.

"There's nothing we can do. We just have to wade this out. I may not be in the best condition, but staying with me will only hold you back Cam. If this is what that guy thinks is the best, then trust him, don't let me keep you in danger."

"I don't want to leave you."

"We'll see each other again Gallagher Girl. Don't worry." Zach chuckled a bit, and I was brought back to the day I first met him, when I hit him with my bike. Then to the night he delivered Chinese food to my house.

"We're really messed up…aren't we Zach?" I found myself cracking a smile; relishing the past, trying to stop myself from looking towards the future.

"More than you know Gallagher Girl. More than you know." I felt my eyes fluttering closed. The rain over the city still pattered on the roof of the orphanage. The soft _tap tap tap_ of the rain caused a strange lull for me. The melodic sound of the rain and a combination of Zach's breathing began to soothe me into a slumber.

"I just have one question for you Cam." I nodded and made a slight _hmm_ sound. "Why can't I feel my arm?"

Now I was awake.


	7. An Arm and A Leg

**So sorry for the long wait, but it's only because I started writing my first book :D anyways sorry again. I don't have a whole lot of excuses why this is so late, but i hope you like it. I made it extra long just for you guys. It's the longest chapter yet. Feedback is appreciated. Read, Enjoy, Review **

I've been panicked before. I've stressed over a major exam. I've thrown up before giving speeches in front of my peers. However, nothing in my past had ever prepared me for the chilly ice that ran through my veins when hearing Zach's words. It felt almost as if my blood had been dipped in liquid nitrogen, causing it all to instantly freeze.

"What do you mean you can't feel your arm Zach?" I shot up and slid the shoulder of his shirt down. Townsend had bandaged his shoulder tightly, but blood still seeped through the gauze. "Townsend, get in here!" I shouted. There must have been more to that bullet wound if Zach couldn't feel his arm.

"Yes?" He asked. It was almost one in the morning, according to my watch, yet Townsend looked as if he had slept for weeks prior to getting up.

"Zach can't feel his arm. What happened?" I began poking and prodding at Zach's arm and asking him if he could feel it or not. I received the same answer every time.

"The bullet must've torn some of the tendons in your arm when it passed through. It might not be repairable. I'm sorry." Townsend removed Zach's bandage and did a quick examination. He went to fetch his makeshift medical supplies and preformed an examination of the muscles in Zach's shoulder. Sighing, Townsend replaced Zach's bandage quickly then. As Townsend exited the room, he took the only hope I had of repairing Zach's arm and giving him a second chance with him.

"Townsend!" I yelled, chasing after him. "Townsend, don't walk away from me! There has _got_ to be something we can do to repair Zach's arm."

"No, Ms. Morgan, there isn't. At least, there's nothing I can do. The orders were sent for your deaths to be publicized when you arrived. By tomorrow morning, his name will be on every news station and every magazine cover."  
"Then we can take him to a hospital. It's still today, and you said people wouldn't know we were dead until tomorrow morning. We have to be able to do something. We can't just leave him here like this!" I exclaimed using arm gestures like I always did when I was nervous or angry.

"We can't take that risk. I'm sorry. You should get your rest Ms. Morgan. Your transport will be here in the morning. I recommend in one of the rooms separate from your companion." Townsend shut his steel door. The steel room was an echo of Townsend's personality: cold and unmoving.

I was left standing in front of his door. Tears streamed down my face as I refused to accept Townsend's rejection. "You may not help him, but I sure as hell will." I whispered to myself. I rushed back into the main area where Zach was, only to find he was missing.

"Zach?" I yelled, hoping for an answer. "Where are you?" I felt like one of the girls in a scary movie that yells for the killer expecting for him to reply. The light by where Zach had lain dimmed to a burning flicker. Thunder pounded shaking the orphanage as I began my search. I looked for anything that would give me hints to where my crippled companion could be found.

"I'm over here." I heard Zach yell from the next room over. Letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I found Zach leaning against a wooden desk in one of the rooms beside the main lobby.

"What were you thinking?" I asked him, giving him a light punch in his shoulder. "I had thought something had happened to you. Why are you up anyways? You should be resting. The last thing I need is for you to have another episode."

"Episode?" He inquired, "What do you mean an episode."  
"You don't remember? You woke up once and you were talking gibberish. It didn't make any sense. You were moaning." He went beat red for a second. "And you were saying things like 'I didn't do anything wrong.' Then you started thrashing and screaming, and I was so scared that there was something wrong with you. I didn't know what to do. Then you turned on me, and I was so frightened. I didn't know what to do you were saying it was all my fault and-and that someone needed you. Then something happened and your eyes were all clouded and then you passed out again. You don't remember any of this?" Zach shook his head no and I almost couldn't believe the irony. Both of us getting amnesia from injuries that couldn't be helped.

"Are you going to explain what you were talking about?" I asked. Though the situation did frighten me half to death, I still wanted to know what he was talking about.

"It was my dad. He was never the 'exemplary' fatherly figure. He'd come home drunk most nights and it'd just go downhill from there. You know what he did to that child. I will always see him as a murder, even if it was because he was intoxicated. You know, it seems like alcohol has a way of messing up my life a lot. First my dad, and then those drunk footballers throwing you into the side of that pool; best of all: it's all my fault too."  
"Don't say that Zach, you had no control over those guys' or your dad's actions. It was all them, no matter what that drug does to your brain." I reassured him. Placing my arm on his wounded shoulder, I began to rub circles in his back and hum an old tune my mother used to sing to me to calm me down when I got hurt as a child.

"See, but it is my fault. They threw you in because you were my friend. Then, my father started drinking because he thought my mother loved me more than him. That's what got him started on his alcohol reliance and lead to him killing that kid in the drunk driving accident. I'm just tired of bad things happening to me. Is that too much to ask?" Zach sighed and slid down to the floor.

"That's not the only thing on your mind is it?" After knowing Zach for years, and dating him for almost an entire one, I had learned to read his emotions pretty well.

"I'm just worried about you. We were dragged into something a lot larger than we should have been in. I think that there's more to this thing than that guy Townsend is letting on too."  
"I know you're avoiding what you really want to talk about because it will just make me worried or some stupid crap like that." I wanted him to talk to me and be honest for once. "I'm tired of lies and people sneaking around Zach. I just want you to talk to me and be you. I want you to tell me what you feel and I won't judge you for any of it. I might not like what you feel or agree with it, but I will support you no matter what it is. That's what we do."

"You mean you want me to talk about my arm?" He guessed. I nodded and he chuckled. It wasn't the light amusing laughter that I was used to. It was dark and sadistic; it was so un-Zach like. "You know, I always thought that the world could play some cruel jokes. Me getting arrested, you getting hurt…twice, and now I'm having everything I've worked my entire life taken away from me. It's almost as if fate hopes that I have a shitty life. And you know what? Sometimes, I believe that I truly deserve everything that I've been given. I've screwed over some really good people, and I've messed myself up pretty badly."

"I refuse to let you think like that Zachary Goode. I know you, and I know what you're like. You're a fighter and a good person. Most of all, I'm not going to let you give your dreams up. You're going to get your arm fixed. Townsend might not be able to fix it, but I bet if we get to a hospital then we can find someone who can." I tried to lift Zach off the ground with little success. All my strength had been sapped from carrying him here.

"When did the goody-goody Cameron Morgan become a rule breaker? I don't think it's a good idea. Townsend told us to stay here, and I don't want to risk it. I don't want to risk you." He let his sentence fall out.

"I don't want to risk it either, but if we do survive this whole ordeal, then you can keep on pursuing your dream and it will be like nothing ever happened. Zach, we have to take the chance. I can't feel like I'm responsible for holding you back, not again."  
"Cammie, I don't think it's a good idea." Zach said.

"If you're not going to go, then I am. I'm not going to let you just give up." I got up as Zach attempted to scramble after me.  
"Do you even know where you're going?" He yelled after me. He swore as he tried to get up using his bad shoulder for support. He was still able to feel the pain in his shoulder, but he momentarily forgot the immobility in his arm.

"There was a hospital two blocks back. Maybe I can get one of the doctors to come here and help you if you're not going to come with me." I had one hand on the doorknob and one foot out the door when he stopped me.

"Wait," Zach said, finally behind me. "I'm going with you. I refuse to let you go again like I did before." I laughed.

"Zach," I miffed, "need I remind you, that _you_ have a _girlfriend_. You can't keep on saying things like this to me. Either you like her or you don't. That doesn't mean that I'm not going to go for help, but either you're supporting me as a _friend_ or not at all. It's your decision, not mine." I stepped out the door into the pouring rain.

"Cammie! I didn't-I- Cammie wait!" I was already too far to hear.

The rain pounded around me as the streets of New York continued to bustle even in the gloomiest of weather. The cold spread into my already soaked jacket like a snake would slither up on its prey. I felt it running through my body, stiffening my muscles and tightening my joints. The hospital was only one more block away, but the cold was becoming unbearable. I felt my teeth chattering and I wrapped arms around myself in hopes of locking in some body heat. No such luck came, I remained as cold as before.

I arrived at the hospital, cold and shivering. Shelter from the rain and cold provided some relief for my aching body. The two-block walk seemed like miles. Unsure if would be able to make it back, I reminded myself that I wasn't doing this for myself, I was doing it for Zach who was in need of a surgeon to fix his arm.

Walking up to the receptionist desk, the receptionist looked up and gasped. "Hello miss," He said, "how may I help you."

"My friend was shot in the shoulder. We stopped the bleeding and we fell asleep for a while, but when he woke up, he said he couldn't feel his arm. He could still feel the pain in his shoulder where he was shot, but he can't move his arm. We don't know what to do, and he refuses to leave where we're staying."

"Who refused to leave?" A voice said from behind me.

"Zach!" I yelled, causing many stares from the other patrons. "What are you doing here? I was going to bring a doctor back, or at least try."

"I take it this is your friend who was shot." I nodded to the receptionist and then examined Zach. He was wearing even less than I was and had just walked the same two-blocks that I had. His shoulder had begun to bleed again as well.

"We need someone fast. He's bleeding again, and bleeding a lot." I could tell because Zach's face was going pale, and his previously white gauze was completely red and seeping through his shirt. The receptionist nodded and placed a call for an emergency doctor.

Zach was wheeled away on a gurney as I was forced to wait in the lobby. I waited for hours. Eventually a doctor came out wearing his scrubs.

"Ah," She said as he saw me, "are you with the man who got shot." I gave the lady a look like 'you don't recognize him' and she just smirked. "Yes I do realize who he is, but I'd prefer not to have a frenzy of able body men and desperate fan girls in my hospital." I nodded to show that I understood. "My name is Doctor Ames. I preformed the work on your boyfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend." I said.

"Anyways, we were able to successfully remove the bullet from his shoulder, although we believe it caused some damage to the nerves and muscles in his shoulder causing the immobility. However, I regret to inform you, sadly, we were not able to repair his arm. He will be given the option of amputation since his arm will no longer be functioning. Or he may keep it. It is besides the fact, but his arm will no longer be of use. We did the best we could, but the nerves, muscles, and tissue were too managed and disintegrated from whatever he was shot by. He should be waking up momentarily, and I believe that you should be the one to tell him the news. He's in room 1201" The doctor gave me some more instructions about Zach, but I wasn't listening, I was still in shock. Regrettably; I got up and walked to the room. Zach's never going to be able to use his arm again, and it's my fault.

I sat in the chair waiting for Zach to wake up. His shoulder was bound in several layers of gauze and he was attached to who knows how many machines. I heard the heart monitor give off subtle_ beep_s notifying me his heart was functioning fine. Even though I knew that he was alive I couldn't help but feel like he was dead. I knew he would be alive in theory, as far as walking and breathing went, but I know even more that he would be truly dead since his dream was impossible now.

I didn't know what to do. I could now imagine what it was like for all my friends when I was in the hospital. Seeing someone hooked up to all these machines made it seem so surreal. I knew that Zach was going to wake up, but even still, part of me believed that he was never going to. I knew this most likely because I knew that when he woke up, he would never be the same person ever again.

"Ugh," Zach moaned in his bed.

"Zach," I sighed, "you're awake." I couldn't help but smile at him. Part of me was still mad at him for giving all these mixed signals, but the other part of me pitied him for what happened. I could never imagine having all my hopes and dreams being so close and then being ripped away the next second.

"Cammie?" His voice was hoarse as he slowly tried to push himself upright. His arms gave out on him and he decided to remain lying down. His body too plagued with fatigue to try again. "What'd the doctor say?"

"The doctor said a lot of things." I stalled.

"Very funny Gallagher Girl. What'd he say about my arm?" Of course Zach wanted to cut right to the chase.

"They successfully removed the bullet from your shoulder, but you have to stay here for another two days before you can be discharged."

"And?" He turned his head so his deep green eyes looked directly into my own. I could feel my own eyes brimming with tears as I delivered the news.

"And they were unable to repair the damage done to your arm. I'm sorry Zach." I could see the tears spilling over from his eyes. I had seen Zachary Goode cry very few times, not even when Bex broke his arm. I burst into hysterics.

"It's not your fault." Zach tried to calm me down, but it should have been me trying to comfort him.

"Yes, it is! It's all my fault! I'm the one who avoided you purposefully so that I wouldn't have to talk to you. Then I was the one that got you shot because you chased after me when I refused to talk to you. And-and- I just ruined your life and you're acting like it's fine. It's not!" I placed my head on my hands. "I'm so sorry Zach, I never meant to get you in trouble and I definitely didn't mean for any of this to happen. Now you'll never be able to play football again and you'll never be able to fulfill your dreams. You were so close, and you won the Super Bowl for Pete's sake! Now, because of me, it's all gone, and-and- maybe it's just better if I leave. Townsend was right, it's not safe for me to be near you."

"Cammie, you can't blame yourself for everything that's happened. It was my choice to go after you when you went to Josh's. It was my decision to follow you after, and it was my decision to follow you period. _None_ of that makes this your fault. If anything it's mine for being plain stupid and not being aware of my surroundings. You can't beat yourself up about this. I know that I won't be able to play football anymore. Yes, it was my life, but I will learn to live without it. I can live a normal life. You haven't ruined my life, you just given it a new beginning. Think about it that way." Zach continued to try and make me feel better, but I had made up my mind.

"That's not going to stop me from leaving Zach, it's not safe for us to be near each other. I'm going back to the orphanage to tell Townsend where you are then I'm leaving."

"Don't do this Cammie, I know you, don't leave. Leaving has worked before and it won't work now." He tried to get up once again, but once again failed.

"Why do you even care?" I asked. "You have a girlfriend and you were happy with her. Why do you care if I leave? Wouldn't it be better if I left, then you could think about your cute and hubby all alone. I don't need your pity or your concern Zach; I'm a big girl. I'll manage on my own. You can't keep on doing this to me. I'm not the helpless person you left back in Roseville. I know how to deal with hard things. If you ever need help though, call Abby. I'll leave her number on the table, but only if it's an emergency. Don't worry about me Zach; I'll be fine. We'll see each other again soon." Standing up from my chair, I began to exit the room. Must to Zach's dislikes and protests, I continued out the door.

"Fine, leave then. What if I can't reach Abby though? Then what? Do I just die, or what happens then." I sighed realizing he was right.

"Take this." I said, giving him my cell phone. "It has Abby's number on speed dial number four. Just press four and the-"

"I know how speed dial works." He snapped.

"Then this is goodbye…for now." I turned a final time. Zach didn't need me; all I had done was get him in trouble and hurt. He was much better off without me.

"Will you stop trying to leave?" He yelled after me. I heard his bed squeak, indicating he was trying to get up. "Stop trying to leave and abandon me here." I turned and saw that he had his two feet on the ground and was trying to stand up, but the wires connecting him to all his machines were holding him down. I heard one beeping erratically, but I didn't know if it was the nurse pager or the heart monitor.

"I'm not abandoning you, I'm keeping you safe. If me leaving keeps you safe then I'll leave, because it seems the more I'm around you the more trouble I seem to attract. So goodbye Zach."

"And do you seriously think that I'm just going to let you walk out hat door and not try and follow you? You're insane!" He shouted at me.

"And you're the one that made me insane! God, Zach, I can't deal with this right now, I need to go." The nurse finally arrived with a sedative for Zach. It had a pristine needle and everything, much more advanced than what we had at the orphanage. "Bye Zach."

I left the hospital to shouts from Zach for the nurses to release him and for me to come back, but I listened to neither of them. Zach would only be safe when I was out of the picture. The rain continued to pour on the grey city as I walked along its sickly sidewalks. If you asked any New Yorker, they'd tell you being out on the streets in the middle of the night was a terrible idea. Actually, any sane person would tell you that it's a bad idea, but my safety was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

Somehow, I made it back to the orphanage unscathed. I was freezing and shivering, but unscathed. The fire by Zach's blanket had gone out completely and it was pitch black. Lightning flashed illuminating a terrorizing figure in the middle of the room.

"Ms. Morgan, where is Mr. Goode." Townsend demanded. I could see his silhouette; his shoulders were tense and I could make out the vague features of his face, of which were contorted with rage.

"I took him to the hospital because you refused to try to help him. But you were right Townsend; there was nothing we could do to fix his arm. It's finished. His arm won't work again, and it's entirely my fault. I hope you're happy."

"Where is Mr. Goode now?" Townsend demanded.

"He's still at the hospital, they won't dispatch him for another two days."

"Do you realize what you've done?" Townsend yelled at me. Racing towards the door, he knocked me aside and sprinted into the rain. I sprinted after him, but keeping up with a member of the CIA isn't as easy as you'd think.

He was too far ahead of me. My legs were slowing down as the cold was causing my muscles to cramp. Eyesight obscured by falling rain, and clothes weighed down by soaking water, I had no idea of the flying projectile that soon lodged itself into my right calf. A searing pain soon followed as the rain continued to pound on my back. I felt white hot metal slice across my arms, back, and legs. The water washed away in pools of red. I felt colder and colder as black dots began to dot my vision. I was going to die in the middle of New York streets. At least my story now fit my life. My family thought I was dead, and soon was going to be.

I felt my eyelids growing heavy as the black dots grew bigger. Eyesight fading to black, I experienced the coldest cold I had in my life, and I knew I was dead. The last thing I felt was my body being carried away as the last remnants of my life drained from my body.


	8. Death Would Have Been Easier

**Sorry for the short update, but hopefully a longer one will follow(: You know what to do. Read. Enjoy. Review. **

People say that when you die, you see a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. Of course, no one knows if this is really true, because no one has ever come back from the dead. I saw a light. It was warm and comforting; orange and inviting me. The light reminded me of a memory I thought I had forgotten. I was barely two years old and it was around Christmas time. The fire crackled in the background as my dad made hot chocolate in the kitchen. My mom laughed at something he said and he smiled in return. They say that the strongest memories are not that of sadness—but of happiness. That was the firs time I had seen my parents happy, and, in love.

The light gave me a sense of unity and wholesomeness. I didn't rush into the warmth; rather, I stayed at the mouth of the dark tunnel and watched. The light cascaded down from all angles of the opening bathing the entrance in a warm glow. Reaching my hand out, I stroked one of the beams letting the heat wash over and rejuvenate my body. Slowly, I watched as the scars, cuts, and bruises on my arms faded into an even tan color. My clothes slowly changed from torn and muddied street clothes to a white sleeping gown. Memories from when I was one, two, three years old came flooding back to me. The doctors had said it would be nearly impossible for me to remember anything before the age of ten after my tumor. Is it possible to cry in death? If so, I felt the tears pouring from my eyes.

I was dead, but at the same time I didn't feel dead. Even though the marks of my pain were gone, I could still feel myself being tugged away. Then, the world crashed down around me. I was yanked harshly back by an invisible cord on my back. The bathing light turned black and sinister as the soft orange rays turned to walls of purple fire. The tunnel began to close down around me as I was dragged away from the exit of the perilous tunnel. The mouth of the cave grew further away as I was yanked like a rag doll by a five-year old. Suddenly, a new light appeared. It wasn't orange and inviting; it was white and harsh, as it spared no mercy for a tortured soul like myself. I opened my eyes.

They say death is easy, but it's living that's hard. Nothing could be more to the truth. Being stuck in the limbo of the tunnel gave me perspective on life. As my eyes shot open, I felt every single cut and bruise that I had received in the last twenty-four hours burn like hot steel. The pain was so intense, I felt as if I would pass out from the sheer agony. The white light of a lamp blinded me as I attempted to move my neck. I'd grown used to waking up in unusual places. Though mostly they were unlikely places _inside_ my apartment, I'd grown used to them nonetheless.

"I wouldn't try moving if I were you." The man's voice rang deep and true. His tone was rich and old. Sounding if years of hardship and cruelty had hardened him, he sounded in his late forties. I knew the voice well though. It may have been different from before, but it was still the same voice I'd known for a while.

"I don't expect you to respond." He continued, "I get people like this a lot. They've been mugged, drugged, or raped in the dangerous streets of _gracious_ New York City. I don't take them to hospitals because they'd just get found again." I closed my eyes, the lamp becoming too much for me to bear. Opening my mouth to attempt and form a response, I found the sides of my face were cut along with the rest of my body.

"You're going to pass out again soon. You may not know it, but I see it all the time." He was right. My eyelids felt heavier as his voice lulled me back into a sleep. I almost wished that I would be back in the tunnel, but I had someone relying on me to save him, and dying was not an option.

My dreams were no better than my trip down the tunnel. Strangely, I found the more that I lived the more that tunnel faded into a confusing dream. Was there a light or was it a door? Was the thing at the end of the tunnel trying to show me something? It all seemed to blur into a haze as the details became even more distorted.

I dreamed of the day that Zach left me. I remember sitting on the bench as the trees turned from green to a golden auburn color. I imagined him staying: not leaving, not moving on, and not finding someone else. We moved to New York together. I would be taking architectural classes and he would be working to become a player for the New York Giants. He wouldn't be happy though. Every time his face appeared, his smile would be forced. I could see the strain in his face, and the will in his eyes to break free. I could also see the regret plastered plain and clear in his features that he didn't take the opportunity in Maryland. And I knew it was all because of me. In the end, I don't regret my decision to let Zach go, but I will always regret not fighting for him at all.

When I woke up again, it was dark out. The lamp was off and I could hear the pitter patter of rain on the roof. "You're going to need to eat something." The familiar voice of my host encouraged.

"Can't…eat…"I managed to rasp out. My voice sounded like it was ground down with sand paper.

"At least you're talking, that's more than I get for most who passed through here." He brought over a bowl and began to spoon soup down my throat. At first, the soup came right back up and all over myself. Eating was not a beauty process, but in the end, I managed to eat the entire bowl of soup minus what came back up, which was about half of it. My head began to feel dizzy as the world tilted from left to right. My eyes slowly closed to a shut as my brain faded into a light buzz.

My pattern continued for the next couple of days. It consisted of me waking up, him forcing me to eat something; me throwing most of it up, and then ending with me passing out from pain. Eventually, the cuts got better and I was able to say awake for longer. It was strange, being in the unfamiliar place with the least likely person I thought I would help me. I never moved. I lay on the couch, for the moments I was able to say awake and he wasn't trying to force feed me anything, and counted the seconds and minutes till I left. As my mind wondered from the minutes and seconds, they wondered to where Zach was. I pictured his broken body, helpless arm, dead in a ditch. I had no knowledge of what happened once Townsend stormed out the door to find Zach.

It came to the point where every thought ate away at me more and more. I needed to find out what happened to Zach and Townsend.

"I need to leave." It had been a little more than a month. I had regained the full ability of speech. My cuts were healing and all my stitches had been taken out a couple of weeks ago. What was left of my gruesome experience were no more thick lines all over my body. I had yet to look in a mirror so I had no idea of how my face had changed. I imagined the worst. My host had practiced helping me walk and do "physical-therapy." I still hadn't visited a hospital, but I found out my host was a surgeon at a local hospital, so he was qualified to help me. He had taken his vacation days and sick days to help me when I was at my worst.

"I'd let you go, but I haven't received orders to." He might have been distant and uncaring, but my host understood how disobeying orders could be deadly, unlike me.

"I hate to break it to you, but you might not be getting those orders." The host had heard my tale after I had been able to speak without pain. "I told you that Townsend isn't going to be found easily, but I think I know someone who can help me…I mean us."

"I know you think that, but you saw what happened last time. We don't know what happened to Zach and Townsend has been MIA since too. I have to return to work soon. Give me the contact information and name and I'll get the person you're talking about to help us."

"That's all fine and dandy," I said while rolling my eyes sarcastically, "But she knows all about you. She knows what you've done. I'm still wary about you, mind you. What you did was unforgivable and it's hard to get past things like that."

"Look," He said sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I told you it was all a front and that's exactly what it was. A _front_."

"Some fronts can become reality, you need to remember that. I'm going to leave tomorrow. I'll hail a cab and head into the city. Do you have a phone I can use? It'd be weird if I just showed up at her house unannounced when I'm supposed to be dead."

"I have one but I don't think you should go. This could put everything I've done to try and help you in jeopardy." He face contorted at the thought of having all his work thrown away.

"Then come with me." I asked. He face looked up in surprise.

"Like you said, whoever you're planning on contacting doesn't like me much. I'll come only because I know that no matter what happens, you're going to be stopped and be in trouble. New York isn't safe for you any more Cammie. It's my job to protect you and I fully plan on fulfilling on that job."

"So I'm just a job to you? And I thought we were doing so well." I tried to play light. "You should come though. Like you said, New York isn't safe for me anymore."

"You were never just a job to me." He sighed, "I'll come. We'll go tomorrow when I'm done with my work. I have a car in the garage. How long will it take to get there?"

"A little over an hour I think. Let's take a cab. Your car will be too conspicuous. I don't want to put you in danger if someone sees me in the car with you. I'm not safe anymore. I have a friend in the cabbie business. She can keep a secret. I trust her and I know she won't let me down. Plus, I don't think she knows that I'm supposed to be dead yet, so we can tell her once we get the job done." I calculated every possible aspect of this plan that could go wrong and came up with a list that would reach California and back. I trusted Alex though.

"Okay, are you sure you want to do this Cam. I'm sure Townsend will find us eventually. He knows that I'm here and a reliable contact. I'm not sure that he knows that I have you, but I'm not too far from the orphanage, so he must know that if you weren't killed you were picked up me."

"Townsend had everything all planned out didn't he?" I gave a dark chuckle as my host continued.

"More or less. As soon as you ran into him in the street, he send me a message saying that he had assets coming to the orphanage and to keep an eye on them."

"Wait," I interrupted, "if he told you to keep an eye on us, then why did you let me take Zach to the hospital. You could've easily stopped me and we wouldn't be in this situation!" I was yelling at him by the end of my speculation.

"Let's be honest here, would you have listened to me or been stubborn and taken Zach anyways. You'd still be here and Zach would still be missing." He was right. Had I run into him in the street, I would have just ignored him and taken Zach anyways.

"You're right. I'm sorry for yelling."

"It's fine. Get your rest, we have a long day tomorrow." He exited the room, but I stopped him before he was out of sight.

"Thank you Dillon…for everything."


End file.
